Composer : Leonard Bernstein

Poets have said love is undying,

My love!

Don't be mislead, they were all lying,

My love!

Love's on the wing

But now while it hovers

Let us be lovers!

One soon recovers,

My love!

Soon the fever's fled

For love's a transient blessing

Just a week in bed

And we'll be convalescing!

Why talk of morals when springtime is flying?

Why end in quarrels, reproaches and sighing,

Crying

For love!

My love!

I cannot entertain

Your shocking proposition.

How could I regain

My virginal condition?

I am so pure that before you may bed me

You must asure me that first you will wed me!

Wed me!

Well, then,

Since you're so pure I shall betrothe you,

My love!

Though I feel sure I'll come to loathe you,

My love!

Still, for the thrill

I'm perfectly willing!

So if we must wed

Before we may bed

Then, come let us wed,

MY LOVE!