The object of my affection can change my complexion
From white to rosy red
Anytime he holds my hand and tells me that he’s mine.
There are many boys who can thrill me
And some who can chill me with dreams of happiness.
But I know I’ll never rest until he says he’s mine

Now I’m not afraid he’ll leave me; he’s not the kind to be unfair.
But instead I trust him implicitly;
He can go where he wants to go, do what he wants to do,
I don’t care; the object of my affection
Can change my complexion from white to rosy red
Anytime he holds my hand and tells me that he’s mine.