Today is just another day, tomorrow is a guess
But yesterday, what I'd give for yesterday
To relive one yesterday and its happiness
When Joanna loved me
Every town was Paris
Paris on a Sunday
And the month was May
When Joanna loved me
Every sound was music
Music made of laughter
Laughter that was bright, bright and gay
But when Joanna left me
May became December
But, even in December, I remember
Her touch, her smile, and in a little while she loves me
Once again it's Paris
Paris on a Sunday
And the month is May