It's only a face in a frame
With lips that have nothing to say
But it's oh, so important to me

Since he took the real one away.

As I cling to the frame made of brass

And stare at the angel in glass
I long for the love that we knew
When I took this picture of you.


Oh, I've found no contentment so rare
As the love we would've chosen to share

The smile on your picture will serve
To stay me if I lose my nerve.


Now I pick up the wine and the glass
And pour out a toast to the past
Here's to a love that we knew

Here's to a picture of you...