What She Does To Me |
| by Roche |
I can't remember
The last time I was this happy;
And I fly so high
Whenever she's with me.
She makes me want
To be better than I am.
She makes me long
To hold her hand;
But I'm not very smooth,
And I hope she understands
That all I want
Is to have her there.
I love her eyes and smile,
And I love her hair.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes everything fine.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes it sublime.
She's my Josie,
And she makes everything jake.
I'll give her my best,
And do everything for her sake.
She makes me sing
The lyrics I write 'bout her;
About how much I need her
And don't want to be here without her.
But I can't do her justice
With the words I write down,
And I could never do justice
To this angel I have found.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes everything fine.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes it sublime.
For her I'll keep
Road rage under control,
And I'll never smoke
A joint, a bong, or a bowl.
Just to hear her voice on the phone,
I'll push my homework far aside.
When I'm talking to her,
Nothing else is important in my mind.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes everything fine.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes it sublime.
In a crowded room
She's all that I see.
Everyone else dissipates and disintegrates,
'Cause having her there comforts me.
I have so much more fun
Whenever we're together.
She clears my dusty eyes
And life looks so much better.
She brings the sun up
And pushes the rain away;
She stops the wind
And makes me smile everyday.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes everything fine.
Yeah, that's what she does to me;
She makes it sublime.
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(c) 1999 Roche Please respect the rights of the author and Passions in Poetry. If you would like to use this poem on your own web page, please contact the Author. Thank you.
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