Another great song written entirely by Dorothy Moskowitz. She says this is as
romantic as she can get.
At the dawn of an ordinary Sunday
I remember the taste of you, sweet in my mouth,
Laaaaate 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 can bring to you flowers in the night
Soft as my trembling fingers touch you--love,
I can offer you wine and candlelight
If only my aching fingers scratch you, love
Late in the year.
Late in the year.
Chords by COTH