No one else did
. “Why can’t I shake the feeling that you’re setting some kind of trap in that cunning mind of yours?”
“Because you never can,” she said. “Lost track of time,” she said, climbing down
. . For what may have caught my eye,
Was surely your pretty face,
But over the years I have come to know,
Your true beauty and inner grace,
For your true beauty is not seen,
Not what you choose to show,
It is your beauty that lies inside,
The beauty I’ve come to know,
And as the years pass on by,
You age just like fine wine,
And every year that passes by,
Makes me glad you’re mine
No one else did
. “Why can’t I shake the feeling that you’re setting some kind of trap in that cunning mind of yours?”
“Because you never can,” she said. “Lost track of time,” she said, climbing down
. . For what may have caught my eye,
Was surely your pretty face,
But over the years I have come to know,
Your true beauty and inner grace,
For your true beauty is not seen,
Not what you choose to show,
It is your beauty that lies inside,
The beauty I’ve come to know,
And as the years pass on by,
You age just like fine wine,
And every year that passes by,
Makes me glad you’re mine
No one else did
. “Why can’t I shake the feeling that you’re setting some kind of trap in that cunning mind of yours?”
“Because you never can,” she said. “Lost track of time,” she said, climbing down
. . For what may have caught my eye,
Was surely your pretty face,
But over the years I have come to know,
Your true beauty and inner grace,
For your true beauty is not seen,
Not what you choose to show,
It is your beauty that lies inside,
The beauty I’ve come to know,
And as the years pass on by,
You age just like fine wine,
And every year that passes by,
Makes me glad you’re mine
Babe Milks The Camera