Whenever skies look gray to me, And trouble begins to brew . . . Whenever the winter winds become too strong, I concentrate on you! When fortune cries nay nay to me, And people declare you're through, Whenever the blues become my only song, I concentrate on you! On your smile, so sweet, so tender, When at first my kiss you declined . . . On the light in your eyes, when you surrender, And once again our arms intertwine . . . And so when wise men say to me, That loves' young dream never comes true, To prove that even wise men can be wrong, I concentrate on you! I concentrate, I concentrate, On you!
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