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Mister Memory Maker

de Ella Mae Morse

The thrill is gone,
The thrill is gone,
Love was grand when love was new.
Birds were singing, skies were blue,

The thrill is gone,
The thrill is gone.
I can see it in your eyes,
I can hear it in your sighs,
Feel your touch
And realize
The thrill is gone.

The nights are cold,
For love is old.
Love was grand when love was new.
Birds were singin', skies were blue,

Now i don't appeal to you,
The thrill is gone.
This is the end
So why pretend.
And let it linger on?
The thrill is gone.

The thrill is gone,
The thrill is gone.
I can see it in your eyes,
I can hear it in your sighs,
Feel your touch
And realize
The thrill is gone.

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