We had a million of days I know that our time has run out You're my everlasting groove Forget the past for the time to come In all our thoughts and we will meet again Never leave me out here in the cold I sing for my never-ending dream Love in december I will always remember Our summer with passion a fatal attraction Colours are fading like the leaves in november Whatfs left of the magic We had a million of days I know that our time has run out You're my everlasting groove Forget the past for the time to come In all our thoughts and we will meet again Never leave me out here in the cold I sing for my never-ending dream Love in december I will always remember Our summer with passion a fatal attraction Colours are fading like the leaves in november Whatfs left of the magic we felt in the springtime Cause there's a place in the world I know Where I'd rather would be In the fairy-tales of love Where everthing has a happy end I would my friend in fantasia-land We could be together all the time My dear in the fairytales of love Love in december I will always remember Our summer with passion a fatal attraction Colours are fading like the leaves in november Whatfs left of the magic we felt in the springtime For a moment a touch could feel Like a vision of an angel Has our love and desire disappeared forever mmm Always longing to have you near Feel the power and the passion Feel me slipping from your hands Please break my fall Love in december I will always remember Our summer with passion a fatal attraction Colours are fading like the leaves in november Whatfs left of the magic we felt in the springtime Love in december I will always remember Our summer with passion a fatal attraction Colours are fading like the leaves in november Whatfs left of the magic we felt in the springtime Love in december I will always remember Our summer with passion a fatal attraction Colours are fading like the leaves in november Whatfs left of the magic we felt in the springtime Love in december I will always remember Our summer with passion a fatal attraction Colours are fading like the leaves in november Whatfs left of the magic we felt in the springtime