| Oh, I’m so mad about a lad
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| It’s too deep to express
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| And when he tries to use his eyes
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| They have instant success
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| So full of passion these pupils are
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| That girls forget what their scruples are
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| So when he turns them on me
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| I murmur tenderly
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| I think you’re great; |
| I think you’re grand
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| And I don’t mind if you hold my hand
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| But don’t look at me that way
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| Your kisses, too, are heavenly
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| And, oh, so full of variety
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| But don’t look at me that way
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| When you tell me sweetly you’re mine completely
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| I always give a long cheer
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| But those sudden flashes behind your lashes
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| Are nobody’s business, dear
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| Since you began to play your role
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| I’ve lost my heart and I’ve lost my soul
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| But as for losing my self-control
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| Don’t look at me that way
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| I just adore your loving arms
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| In fact they’re two of your greatest charms
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| But don’t look at me that way
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| I’m very mild, I’m very meek
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| My will is strong, but my won’t is weak
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| So don’t look at me that way
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| When that strange expression of indiscretion
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| Begins to show in your stare
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| There’s a hocus-pocus about your focus
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| That gives me a terrible scare
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| I feel a thrill when you arrive
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| And while you’re near, I simply thrive
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| But if you want to get home alive
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| Don’t look at me that way |