Maybe it's the way

She lets her hair down on a Sunday afternoon

Or maybe it's the way

That she's romantically attracted to the moon Maybe it's the perfume

That I know she doesn't wear

Or maybe it's the way

She dances when she thinks there ain't nobody there She loves me in the morning

Without warning before the sun begins to rise

And in the evening

I can tell her feelings just by looking in her eyes Songbirds in the garden

Sing to her through frozen holidays

And all my woe and trouble is gonna double

When we go our separate ways Sugar, dandelion, honey, peach

Don't do too much for me

'Cause I ain't no Casanova

And I never ever tried to be Something in her smile

Charms me like a child and then

She turns the thieves and outlaws

Into nothing less than perfect gentlemen The moon is in the mountains

And the night is making pictures of the sky

And I've nothing for you, honey

But this simple lullaby Now should your mind forget me

Regret me or even do me wrong

You'll always live here in my heart

'Cause baby, that's where you belong