To me to me love is no go. Till fiddle and oboe start weeping and wailing. That's my failing. He may be all wrong for me. But his is the only song for me. I know he's around when the sky and the ground start in ringing. I know he is near. By the thunder I hear in advance. His words his words alone. Are the words that can start my heart singing. 'Cause his is the only music that makes me dance. He'll sleep and he'll rise. In the light of two eyes that adore him. And bore him it might. But he won't leave my sight for a glance. In every way every day. I need less of myself and more him more him. 'Cause his is the only music that makes me dance. In every way every day. I need less of myself and more him more him. 'Cause his is the only music that makes me dance. His is the only music that makes me dance