What Makes Me Love Him
J. BOCK, S. HARNICK
What makes me love him? It's not his singing
I've heard his singing, it sours the milk
And yet, it's gotten to the point
Where I prefer that kind of milk
What makes me love him? It's not his learning
He's learned so slowly his whole life long
And though he really knows a multitude of things
They're mostly wrong
He's not romantic and yet I love him
No one occasion he's used me ill
And though he's handsome, I know inside me
Were he a plain man, I'd love him still
What makes me love him? It's quite beyond me
It must be something I can't define
Unless it's merely that he's masculine
And that he's mine