You got a thing about you
I just can't live without you
I really want you, Elenore
Near me
Your looks intoxicate me
Even though your folks hate me
There's no one like you, Elenore
Really
Elenore, gee I think you're swell
And you really do me well
You're my pride and joy, et cetera
Elenore, can I take the time
To ask you to speak your mind
Tell me that you love me better
I really think you're groovy
Let's go out to a movie
What do you say, now, Elenore
Can we?
They'll turn the lights way down low
Maybe we won't watch the show
I think I love you, Elenore
Love me
Elenore, gee I think you're swell
And you really do me well
You're my pride and joy, et cetera
Elenore, can I take the time
To ask you to speak your mind
Tell me that you love me better
Elenore, gee I think you're swell, ah, ah
Elenore, gee I think you're swell, ah, ah
Ah
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Dust-e
In the years of my mis-spent youth, I looked to the music of the day to learn certain "life lessons". This song let me down, BAD. What young lady yerns to be held close and hear, "You're my pride and joy etc" whispered in her ear? ETC?!?!?! What were they thinking? Were they thinking at all? I considered the artists of the era my version of the olden days minstrels, and I expected better of them.