Stories - VIKTOR LAZLO, 1986 I remember quite clearly now when this story happened. The autumn leaves were floating and measured down to the ground. Recovering the lake where we use to swim like children On the sun would dare to shine. That time, we used to be happy Well, I thought we were, But the truth was that— you had been longing to leave me, Not daring to tell me On that precious night watching the lake vaguely conscious You said: Our story was ending. Now I'm standing here No one to wipe away my tears, No one to keep me warm And no one to walk along with, No one to make me feel No one to make me while, OH! What am I to do? I'm standing here alone, It doesn't seem so clear to me What am I supposed to do about this burning, heart of mine OH! What am I to do? Or how should I react? OH! Tell me please! The rain was killing the last days of Summer You had been killing my last breath of love Since a long time ago I still don't think I am gunna make it through another love story You took it all away from me And there I stand, I knew I was gonna be the ..... The one left behind. But still I'm watching the lake vaguely conscious And I know---My life is ending.