It’s hard for me to explain,

I can’t exactly say,

What it is you do,

That makes me feel this way.

It’s not the way you act,

Or the way you speak,

It’s not the things you think about,

That makes me feel complete.

But when you hold my hand,

That rarity of deeds,

And smile at me gently,

My whole being pleads,

To hold you closer to me,

And kiss lips, soft, I’m sure,

As if they've never done this,

As if you’re still pure.

I know you’re not a gentleman

I know you’re not a saint

I know you’re not a chivalrous,

Courtly, princely, or quaint.

I know we don't match up

That couples usually do

But, Baby, let me just say

I don’t really care. Do you?