The hours, they bring me pain

Measuring a summer's day,
I only finds it slips away to grey,
The hours, they bring me pain.

*Tangerine, Tangerine,
Living reflection from a dream;
I was her love, she was my queen,
And now a thousand years between.

Thinking how it used to be,
Does she still remember times like these?
To think of us again?
And I do.