| Lyrics: | What makes me love him?
It's not his singing,
I've heard his singing,
It sours the
milk
And yet, it's gotten to the point
Where I prefer that kind of milk.
What
makes me love him?
It's not his learning.
He's learned so slowly,
His whole life
long
And though he really knows
A multitude of things
They're mostly
wrong.
He's not romantic,
And yet I love him.
No one occasion
He's
used me ill
And though he's handsome
I know inside me
Were he a plain man
I'd
love him still.
What makes me love him?
It's quite beyond me,
It must be
something
I can't define.
Unless it's merely
That he's masculine
And that he's
mine |
