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BF is playing in my dining room She makes the candles weep It's after four, got my pen in hand So I refuse to sleep I stop and start and start again And try not to pretend That this letter I will write to you Is one I'll never send If that's what romance is, then what is love? We had our chances; it can't be undone One weekend in Paris and two nights in Rome If that's what romance is, why did you go Home? I'm staring at my piano keys But I refuse to play It's like an unfinished melody If there's far too much to say The ink is wet, the paper's dry It's waiting for the word From the windmill spinning in my mind And the voice I've never heard If that's what romance is, then what is love? We had our chances; it can't be undone One weekend in Paris or two nights in Rome If that's what romance is, why did you go Home? Home? Home? Home? Walking blindly under the angriest of skies To the very place we met One of us remembers And one of us can't forget If that's what romance is, then what is love? We had our chances; it can't be undone One weekend in Paris or two nights in Rome If that's what romance is, why did you go Home?