You are the ache in the pit of my stomach that keeps me awake at night

You are the flowers that sway

In the wind at midday

You are the dream that keeps me in a daze

You are the bum-ba-dum headache that throbs at the core of my being 

You are the fireworks at night

You are the wish for the gift of time

You are so easily always on my mind

You are gravity's pull towards everything my soul desires

You are the star I never wished on, but yet and still, a dream come true

You are the secret treat that every sane dame wishes to bring home to mama

You're the blues music, you're the love songs

You're the sweet peach cobbler fresh out of the oven on Christmas mornin'

You are a pleasurable epitome of what a man should be.