|
Hey toots, you put the life into living |
|
You brought a sigh into sight |
|
Ah, hon, you make my legs turn to water |
|
You bring the stars out at night |
|
But they ain't half so bright as your eyes |
|
Gee whiz, you take the beauty out of beautiful |
|
You play the strings of my heart |
|
Oh babe, you take the wonder out of wonderful |
|
Oh, my, oh, my, and my, if you were mine |
|
The rain would turn to sweet sweet wine |
|
Well, he's been up all night |
|
Breakin' his head in two to write |
|
A little sonnet for his chickadee |
|
But between you and me, I think it's silly, silly |
|
Ooh, treas, you got a smile like a Rembrandt |
|
Aha, you got the style of a queen |
|
Oh, dear, you are the petal of a rosebud |
|
Next to you all the others could be weeds |
|
You're the only one my garden needs |
|
Ooh, you know the art of conversation must be dying |
|
Ooh, when a romance depends on cliches and toupees and threepes |
|
We're up to here with moonin' and junin' |
|
If you want to sound sincere |
|
Don't rely on Crosby's croonin' |
|
Take a little time, make up your own rhyme |
|
Don't rely on mine 'cos it's silly, silly, silly, silly |
