k.weill:i’mastranger

Tell me, is love just a popular suggestion,

Or merely and obsolete art?

Forgime me for asking this simple question,

I’m unfammiliar with this heart,

I am a stranger here myself.

Why is it wrong to mumur I adore him,

When it’s chamefully obvius I do?

Does love embarass him or does it bore him?

I’m only waiting for my cue,

I am a stranger here myself.

I dream of a day, a gay warm day,

With my face between his hands;

Have a missed the path, have I gone astray?

I ask, but no one understands.

Love me or leave me, that seems to be the question,

I don’t know the tactics to use.

But if he should offer a personal suggestion,

How could i possibly refuse,

When I’m a stranger here myself?

Please tell me, tell a stranger,

by curiosity goaded,

is there really any danger

that love is now outmoded?

I’m interested especially

In knowimg whay you waste it.

True romance is so fleshly...

With what have you replace it?

What is your latest foible?

Is Gin Rummy more exquisite?

Is skiing more enjoyable?

For heaven’s sake, what is it?

I can’t believe that love has lost its glamour,

That passion is really passé.

If gender is just a term in grammar,

How could I ever find my way,

Since I’m a stranger here myself?

How can he ignore my available condition?

Why this Victorian views?

You see here before you a woman with a mission,

I must discover the key to his ignition,

And, if he should make a diplomatic proposition,

How couls I possibly refuse,

When I’m a stranger here myself?