My old flame

My old flame . . . I can't even think of his name, But it's funny, now and then, how my thoughts go flashing back again To my old flame. My old flame . . . my new lovers all seem so tame, For I haven't met a gent so magnificent or elegant As my old flame. Bridge; I've met so many who had fascinatin' ways, A fascinatin' gaze in their eyes; Some who took me up to the skies, But their attempts at love were only imitations of My old flame . . . I can't even think of his name, But I'll never be the same until I discover what became Of my old flame.