Paris 1949




Dream of the nights we walked alone;

Dream of the nights we talked alone.

We were there must we two – just me, you.


Our love was made in Paris;

We should have stayed in Paris,

But still we knew right from the start

We’d have to part.

You came, I saw –

I have to see you once more.


We will return to our Shangri-la.

Then we will be in Utopia.

Paris, our paradise.



Paris 1949Lyrics’

Arlene Corwin


No Words 1956

           No Words

No words can describe what I feel for you,

For words are but symbols that say and cannot do.

No sounds can describe what occurs when you are near;

For sound merely draws all attention to the ear.

Just eyes embracing are enough:

We kiss with our minds,

Thought intertwines,

This is the stuff of which dreams are.

No words can re-kindle the light that warms the sum;

For words only stop our souls from becoming one.

And now we’ll say no more, for no more need be said.

The road to love is straight ahead.


No Words 1956

My Love For You 1953

            My Love For You


Life handles some very hard;

Others it treats with kid gloves.

I was placed in category number one

When it suddenly handed me love.


My love for you, to quote a cliché,

Came ‘out of the blue’

And now has me praying that you

Will quote that same cliché too.

My love for you won’t leave me alone;

Is there when I eat, sleep, travel or phone –

Please consent,

And take me out of this torment.

Love’s beautiful, love’s grand.

It brings ecstasy as nothing can.

But it’s awfully hard to bear

When it’s just a one-sided affair.

So, please tell me when

You’ll make me completely happy again

And whisper these words in my ear:

“My love for you is here.”

©My Love For You 53.3 29


Arlene Corwin

Lullaby of Birdland 1954

          Lullaby of Birdland

Night after night I close my eyes,

Let the music hypnotize me.

Night after night the music goes round in my head,

As I lie in my bed.

Its haunting strain that numbs my brain

Brings on sleep like Novacaine.

That haunting music serves as my lullaby:

The lullaby of Birdland.

Let love be gay as it pleases.

Let love betray me and go.

I cure al love-caused diseases,

Long as I hear my radio.

Day after day don’t mourn or grieve,

Wear my mask from dawn to eve.

But comes the night I sigh

With my lullaby:

The lullaby of Birdland.

©Lullaby Of Birdland 54.2 (music: George Shearing)

Lyrics (written before there was any other lyric)

Arlene Corwin

Last Call For Alcohol 1953

               Last Call For Alcohol

The bar is closing as the clock nears three,

And the waiter sings his very last phrase

To the guys and dolls in the very last phase of life,

Strife and dissipation.

So the waiters speak again,

And the drinkers seek again:

Another bar to outlet all their blues.

“Last call for booze!”

“Last call for alcohol!”

So the waiters sing their mournful cry

To the men and women who want to die,

Cause they can’t continue their supply of alcohol.

How quite unfortunate,

As you listen to their importunate pleas of,

“Please, buddy, can’t you spare another drink?”

How ominous that last phrase sounds

As the realization hits them

That they can’t get any more rounds

Of whisky or gin,

Or anything else that’ll let them in

To the land of Oobladee.

When you ask them why they drink,

They stop, they pause, they think.

And what excuses they all give,

Such as, “This is really livin’ ”

Or, “The job’s a bore…’

‘Can’t take no more of life!

What strife!

So they’ll stay as long as they can stall,

Until their weary faces fall

And Jimmy utters his last call:

“Last call for alcohol.”

“Last call for alcohol.”

©Last Call For Alcohol 1953

Lyrics; Our Times, Our Culture;

Arlene Corwin


Early Autumn 1954

         Early AutumnSeems like an early autumn this year.

One feels his fancy turning to fear.

The wind’s a bit too cool,

The leaves a bit too dry,

And just by gazing up

You see that birds are flying high –

Anxious to leave the sky

And head for warmer weather.

Seems like an early autumn this moon,

And all the leaves are tuning red too soon.

The skies grow dark as June has meekly passed.

The summer’s run away, while autumn’s come too fast.

© Early Autumn 1954

Circling Round Nature; Lyrics;

Arlene Corwin


Will You Come Home To Me (lyric) 1997

      Will You Come Home To Me (lyric)

Waiting for the spring,

Waiting for the fall,

Waiting for the winter

Hoping anytime at all

That you’ll come home perchance.

Ordinary girl, ordinary man,

Ordinary problems.

Ordinary’s harder than

The first days of romance.

Two alone is hard to hold.

Two must work to make one life unfold.

The simple fact is”

You have gone away.

Ia am left to stay,

Leaving me to ponder.

Will you ever wander home?

Will you come back to me?

Will you ever wander back

Will you come home to me?

© Will You Come Home To Me 5.1.1997

*music Dick Shreve

Lyrics; Love Relationships;

Arlene Corwin


Sure Of Myself 1984 2007

Sure Of Myself (Gentle Rain)

Sure of myself, I’m more sure of myself;

Sure of means, sure of ways to get things done.

Life used to seem

Both a secret and dream;

I felt I had to scheme

To survive.

Power and pelf

Have no hold on this self,

Only love – quiet love and giving.

Life is a drama

And I am an actor,

The fact of

Existence is good.

Finding it was one big step,

Finding you another,

Finding me the last.

Your celebration is my celebration,

Your tears put elation’s laugh on hold.

Now I can play,

Not complain everyday,

No more pain in the same way as old.

Poor anymore – I’m not poor anymore,

There’s a door and a key there just for me.

Pure in my feelings

And sure of myself

With the world as my home of the free.

Finding it was one big step,

Finding you another,

Finding me the last.

©Sure Of Myself 84.10.24 revised 12.12.2007


Arlene Corwin




Will I Fly? 1996


     Will I Fly?

Will I fly?

I’ve no way of knowing.

All I know is

I must keep on growing

And expanding,

For without them I will die

Without ever finding out

That I could fly.


Will I Fly? 96.2.22To The Child Mystic; Lyrics;

Arlene Corwin

*later a song with music by Kent Anderson







Milan Is Love 1968

     Milan Is Love

In a garden, on a windless, starless morning,

In the not-quite light of dawn

My eye was caught by a luminescent pebble,

And my arm reached for something unknown.

Burned in gold was Milan Is Love –Nothing more.

Child of love? Woman fair?

What was the secret there?

In a garden, on a newborn English morning,

Strangely happy, I sauntered on,

Reminded of all the moment in his own life

When a man burns the earth with his love.

Ah, romance!

One should never take you lightly.

© Milan Is Love 1968

Lyrics; (music Jimmy Owen)

Arlene Corwin


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