The book of love is long and boring
No one can lift the damn thing
It's full of charts and facts some figures and instructions for dancing
But I
I love it when you read to me
And you
You can read me anything
The book of love has music in it
In fact that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendent
Some of it is just really dumb
But I
I love it when you sing to me
And you
You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know
But I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings
You ought to give me wedding rings
No one can lift the damn thing
It's full of charts and facts some figures and instructions for dancing
But I
I love it when you read to me
And you
You can read me anything
The book of love has music in it
In fact that's where music comes from
Some of it is just transcendent
Some of it is just really dumb
But I
I love it when you sing to me
And you
You can sing me anything
The book of love is long and boring
And written very long ago
It's full of flowers and heart-shaped boxes
And things we're all too young to know
But I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings
And I
I love it when you give me things
And you
You ought to give me wedding rings
You ought to give me wedding rings
Lyrics submitted by ButNeverOutgunned
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Did you say we lost our clipper? Did you say our turn is done? No more packets from your princess? No more wild and crazy fun? I’ve got to see tall clippers I’ve got to sing and shout I want to carry on—as if my time was running out I’ve got to roar with laughter—and ponder how you blow While the ice cakes keep a’cracklin’ And it seems you’re lost in snow I want them lights in my daily mail I don’t mind if I do Remember my address? Could you send me one?—maybe two? Red Jacket’s gone? And Dancing Wave? Guiding Star, as well? Then what of Golden Era? Oh my god!—this is hell! Goodbye to Love romancing And her nutty feathered flock Goodbye to all the laughter I really miss that shock Goodbye to daily love letters Could they come back to me? Surely you remember my address So gee—I mean—couldja? Couldja see? Gee.
Bill Adams [paraphrased]