I remember springtime on Turnberry Street
when the apple trees bloomed in splendor.
A time when the world was fresh and clean,
our love was new, so sweet and tender.
I dreamed of wedding bells ringing out
all the joy and love I felt for him inside.
I dreamed of walking down the aisle
to become his loyal, loving bride.
Dreams change, his dreams not mine.
I walked down Turnberry Street alone,
as the sky turned dark and winter winds
chilled me right down to the bone.
No one can live with deep regrets
or with a heart that has turned to stone.
I pick myself up, dust myself off
and find my way back to my home.
I still dream, but the dreams have changed
as I set out to make it out on my own,
for love isn't ours to keep forever chained.
Sometimes we have to go on alone.
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