Now the young world has grown old, gone are the tinsel and gold,
Sit there and count your fingers, what can you do?
Old girl, you're through.
Sit there and count your little fingers, unlucky little girl blue.
Sit there and count the raindrops falling on you,
It's time you knew,
All you can count on are the raindrops that fall on little girl blue.
No use, old girl, you might as well surrender,
Your hopes are getting slender,
Why won't somebody send a tender blue boy to cheer up little girl blue?
a rather sad-sounding song, but i've been thinking of it for some time now.
or maybe it's just the cold of the early morning that's making me think of slow, sad songs before i drift off to sleep.
and i suppose there's no time like the present to do just that.
goodnight, ciao.