| Lyrics: | (L. Bricusse)
[Recorded October 3, 1962, Los Angeles]
She walks like an angel walks,
she talks like an angel talks,
And her hair has a kind of curl, to my mind, she's my kind of
girl.
She's wise like an angel's wise, with eyes like an angel's eyes,
And a smile like a
kind of pearl, to my mind, she's my kind of girl.
A pretty little face, that face just knocks me
off my feet,
A pretty little feet, she's really sweet enough to eat.
She looks like an angel
looks, she cooks like an angel cooks,
And my mind in a kind of whirl, to my mind, she's my kind
of girl.
[full instrumental interlude]
Hmmm, pretty little face, that face just
knocks me off my feet,
Pretty little feet, she's really sweet enough to eat.
She looks like
an angel looks, and she cooks like an angel cooks,
And my mind in a kind of whirl, to my mind,
she's my kind of girl.
Yes, my poor heart's in a whirl, she's just my kind, she's a
girl.
And I'm glad. |
