Maybe its the way she lets her hair down on a sunday afternoon
maybe its the way that she's romantically attracted to the moon
maybe its the perfume that I know she doesn't wear
or maybe its the way she dances when she thinks there aint 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 seperate ways

sugar, dandellion, honey, peach never did too much for me
cause I aint no cassanova and no i never ever tried to be
but something in her smile charms me like a child and then
she turns the thieves and outlaws into nothing less than perfect gentlemen

well the moon is in the mountains and the night is taking pictures of the sky
and i've got nothing for you, nothing but this simple lullabye
now should your mind forget me, regret me, or even do me wrong
you'll always live here in my heart cause baby thats right where you belong