“Every Time We Say Goodbye”

Listening to the 1958 recording by Tony Bennett, sometimes, inhibits sleep. Maybe because of the Cole Porter lyric.

Or maybe, because of some photographs I made at Camp Lejeune. The day of a year long deployment to a far away land, of danger, long ago.

And I told a very young friend about it today. And I showed her these.

“Every time we say goodbye, I die a little”

“Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little”

“Why the Gods above me, who must be in the know
Think so little of me, they allow you to go”

“When you’re near, there’s such an air of spring about it
I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it
There’s no love song finer
But how strange the change from major to minor
Every time we say goodbye”