Your Song

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside.
I'm not one of those who can easily hide.
I don't have much money, but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live.

If I was a sculptor, but then again - no -
Or a man who makes potions in a travelling show...
I know it's not much but it's the best I can do:
My gift is my song and this one's for you.

And you can tell everybody this is your song.
It may be quite simple but now that it's done,
I hope you don't mind,
I hope you don't mind that I put down in words
How wonderful life is while you're in the world.

I sat on the roof and kicked off the moss.
Well a few of the verses... well, they've got me quite cross.
But the sun's been quite kind while I wrote this song;
It's for people like you that keep it turned on.

So excuse me forgetting, but these things I do -
You see, I've forgotten if they're green or they're blue.
Anyway, the thing is - what I really mean:
Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen...