Lately, I call myself name after name.
I sound like a columnist's write-up,
And I include you, my love, in the blame,
But when I see you, I light up.

I try not to see you, I try not to care,
This crazy affair has been getting nowhere.
I know very well this won't do, but it's you,
Yes, it's you.

There's nothing about you that fits in my schemes,
And yet there you are always haunting my dreams,
And haunting my waking hours, too.
Am I blue? Guess it's you.

What in the world ever started
My foolish heart pounding like this?
We should be thoroughly parted,
We both agree--and then--we kiss.

If falling in love is a crime, then I've sinned.
When you come my way, I should run like the wind.
You wouldn't know how to be true---but, it's you---
Yes, it's you.

Music and Lyrics copyright 1954-1979-1992-1998 by Louise Jackson Doyle

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