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There's nothing left for me of days that used to beThere's just a memory among my souvenirsSome letters tied in blue, a photograph or twoI see a rose from you among my souvenirsA few more tokens rest within my treasure chestAnd though they do their best to give me consolationI count them all apart and as the teardrops startI find a broken heart among my souvenirsI count them all apart and as the teardrops startI find a broken heart among my souvenirs From Letras Mania