“But you know, as I do, that the storm will passAnd that the implacable sun doesn't simply stopWhen obscured by a dark, pernicious cloud,Which is why I know I'll return to your house-On a Sunday that's there on the calendar-And laugh with you over a glass of grappa.”

“But you know, as I do, that the storm will passAnd that the implacable sun doesn't simply stopWhen obscured by a dark, pernicious cloud,Which is why I know I'll return to your house-On a Sunday that's there on the calendar-And laugh with you over a glass of grappa.”

“But you know, as I do, that the storm will passAnd that the implacable sun doesn't simply stopWhen obscured by a dark, pernicious cloud,Which is why I know I'll return to your house-On a Sunday that's there on the calendar-And laugh with you over a glass of grappa.”