When you hear a song in blue, Like a flower crying for the dew, That was my heart serenading you, My prelude to a kiss. When you hear a song that grows, From my tender, sentimental woes, That was my heart trying to compose, A prelude to a kiss. Though it's just a simple melody, With nothing fancy, nothing much, You could turn it to a symphony, A Schubert tune with a Gershwin touch. Oh, how my love song gently cries, For the tenderness within your eyes. My love is a prelude that never dies, My prelude to a kiss. With nothing fancy, nothing much, A Schubert tune with a Gershwin touch. Oh, oh, how my love song gently gently, gently cries, For the tenderness within your eyes. My love is a prelude that never, never, Never, never dies, My prelude to a kiss.