Love Song for the Dead Che

At the dawn of an ordinary sunday I remember the taste of you, sweet in my mouth Late in the year And in the stillness of the Oriente rainfall I remember the warmth of you, still in my arms Late, late in the year I will bring to you flowers in the night Soft as trembling fingers touch you, love I can offer you wine and candlelight If only my aching fingers clutch you, love Late in the year Late in the year Late in the year At the dawn of an ordinary sunday I remember the taste of you, sweet in my mouth Late in the year