I like the way that you sing
when you think that I’m not listening,
and it’s amazing the smile you can bring,
when you do even the simplest thing.
Go on and put my heart under arrest,
and proceed with each Miranda right;
at the trial I will plead no contest,
I’m guilty of thinking of you every day and night.
No need for a jury to resolute,
as each line upon my suit,
will be the love I profess just finally brought to light.
It’s just you,
and what you do to me.
You turn the sky blue
and keep the sun shining.
I thought I couldn’t do a thing
but true love’s always lingering.
It’s just you,
you’re all that I see.
I wish to write poetry for you but I forgot my pen,
but no paper for my hands or tongue so you’re body’s perfect to lend.
Up and down I’ll write “I love you” in lines,
at very least a hundred times,
over and over again making you contort, shake and bend.
We’ve been saving the best for last
but it’s nowhere near the end,
and while time is now moving so fast
do you remember when it was the furthest from a friend?
Some measure it by slipping sands,
but sometimes matters must be forced by hands,
to correct actions of the past,
and heal wounds that couldn’t mend.
It’s just you,
and what you do to me.
You provide each foot a shoe
and hold me up walking.
I was choosing to be by myself
than fake this with someone else.
It’s just you, naturally.
