You are the ache in the pit of my stomach that keeps me awake at night
You are the flowers that sway
In the wind at midday
You are the dream that keeps me in a daze
You are the bum-ba-dum headache that throbs at the core of my being
You are the fireworks at night
You are the wish for the gift of time
You are so easily always on my mind
You are gravity's pull towards everything my soul desires
You are the star I never wished on, but yet and still, a dream come true
You are the secret treat that every sane dame wishes to bring home to mama
You're the blues music, you're the love songs
You're the sweet peach cobbler fresh out of the oven on Christmas mornin'
You are a pleasurable epitome of what a man should be.