| Oh baby can’t you see when you get mad at me
|
| Your eyes light up your face?
|
| Oh baby, just admit if both my wrists were slit
|
| You’d bandage them with style and grace
|
| And it’s not over, I don’t think that it will be
|
| And we are joined at the hip like Siamese twins
|
| And that’s a metaphor for the feelings that I store
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| But you know
|
| With you I’m never bored, yes mam, you strike a chord
|
| That makes me shiver and mumble
|
| I’m chomping at the bit, I need my daily fix
|
| Or my whole world will crumble
|
| And it’s not over, I don’t think that it will be
|
| And we are joined at the hip like Siamese twins
|
| And that’s a metaphor for the feelings that I store
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| But you know
|
| Come wrap your arms around
|
| The man who’s back in town and loves to watch you smile
|
| Don’t know if I should laugh or cry
|
| With you sleeping by my side, I hear the silence for miles
|
| And it’s not over, I don’t think that it will be
|
| And we are joined at the hip like Siamese twins
|
| And that’s a metaphor for the feelings that I store
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| I confess I love you so
|
| But you know |