Some say that love's a little boy,
And some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go round,
And some say it makes that's absurd,
And when I asked the man next-door,
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife got very cross indeed,
And said it wouldn't do.
Does it look like a pair of pyjamas
Or the ham in a temperance hotel
Does its odor remind one of llamas
Or has it a comforting smell?
Is it quickly to touch as a hedge is,
Or soft as eiderdown fluff?
is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
Oh tell me the truth about love.
When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
Will its knock on my door in he morning,
Or tread in he bus on my toes?
Will it come like a change in the weather
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
Oh tell me the truth about love