Whenever skies look gray to me,
And trouble begins to brew . . .
Whenever the winter winds become too strong,
I concentrate on you!

When fortune cries nay nay to me,
And people declare you're through,
Whenever the blues become my only song,
I concentrate on you!

On your smile, so sweet, so tender,
When at first my kiss you declined . . .
On the light in your eyes, when you surrender,
And once again our arms intertwine . . .
And so when wise men say to me,
That loves' young dream never comes true,
To prove that even wise men can be wrong,
I concentrate on you!
I concentrate, I concentrate,