It's a little bit funny
|
This feeling inside
|
I'm not one of those
|
Who can easily hide
|
I don't have much money
|
But boy if I did
|
I'd buy a big house
|
Where we both could live
|
|
If I was a sculptor
|
But then again, no
|
Or a man who makes potions
|
In a travelling show
|
I know it's not much
|
But it's the best I can do
|
My gift is my song
|
And this one's for you
|
|
And you can tell everybody
|
This is your song
|
It may be quite simple
|
But now that it's done
|
I hope you don't mind
|
I hope you don't mind
|
That I put down in words
|
How wonderful life
|
Is while
|
You're in the world
|
|
I sat on the roof
|
And kicked off the moss
|
Well a few
|
Of the verses well
|
They've got me quite cross
|
But the sun's
|
Been quite kind
|
While I wrote this song
|
It's for people like you
|
That keep it turned on
|
|
So excuse me forgetting
|
But these things I do
|
You see I've forgotten
|
If they're green
|
Or they're blue
|
Anyway the thing
|
Is what I really mean
|
Yours are
|
The sweetest eyes
|
I've ever seen
|
|
-----------------
|
Your Song
|
| Tina Arena |
