Autumn Leaves (Les Feuilles Mortes)
(Joseph Kosma)

The falling leaves
drift by my window,
The autumn leaves of red and gold;
I see your lips, the summer kisses,
The sun-burned hands I used to hold.

Since you went away
the days grow long,
And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song,
But I miss you most of all,
my darling,
When autumn leaves start to fall.