I love the way you feel.
I love the way you peel away the layers and let me feel.
So I love the way you feel.
I love the way you are.
I love the way you drift away and be the way you are.
So I love the way you are.
And I love the way you sound,
love the way you talk when the best bit of the film comes around,
laugh when you see the way the hero was drowned.
So I love the way you sound.
I love the things you do.
I love the way you put away the things you have to do.
So I love the things you do.
And I love the things I've seen,
love the way you watch where you're going only after you've been,
sift through the remnants of your coffee machine....
I love the things I've seen.
And I love the way you smile.
I love the way your mouth turns down
and turns it to a frown if you don't get your way.
And I love the way you cry.
I love the way your eyes are dry, and then they're not
as if you know the end is nigh
and everybody's gonna die
tonight unless...
And then you wonder why
I'm smiling at the sky.
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| © Paul Ibberson 2003
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