(jule styne/bob merrill)
To me, to me love is no go
till fiddle and oboe start weeping, and wailing
that's my failing
he may be all wrong for me
but his is the only song for me
I know he's around when the sky and the ground start in ringing
i know he is near
by the thunder i hear in advance
His words, his words alone
are the words that can start my heart singing
'cause his is the only music that makes me dance
He'll sleep and he'll rise
in the light of two eyes that adore him
and bore him it might
but he won't leave my sight for a glance
In every way, every day
i need less of myself and more him, more him
'cause his is the only music that makes me dance
in every way, every day
I need less of myself and more him, more him
'cause his is the only music that makes me dance
his is the only music that makes me dance