Tell me, is love still a popular suggestion
Or merely an obsolete art?
Forgive me for asking a simple question
I'm unfamiliar with his heart
I’m a stranger here myself
Why is it wrong to murmur I adore him
When it's shamefully obvious I do?
Does love embarrass him or does it bore him?
I'm only waiting for my cue
’Cause I'm a stranger here myself
I dream of a day, of a gay warm day
With my face between his hands
Have I missed the path? Have I gone astray?
I ask, and no one understands
Love me or leave me, that seems to be the question
I don't know the tactics to use
But if he should offer a personal suggestion
How could I possibly refuse
When I'm a stranger here myself?
Please tell me, tell a stranger
By curiosity goaded
Is there really any danger
That love is now outmoded?
I'm interested especially
In knowing why you waste it
True romance is so fleshly
With what have you replaced it?
What is your latest foible?
Is gin rummy more exquisite?
Is skiing more enjoyable?
For Heaven's sake, what is it?
I can't believe that love has lost its glamor
That passion is really passé
If gender is just a word in grammar
How can I ever find my way
When I'm a stranger here myself?
How can he ignore my available condition?
Why these Victorian views?
You see here before you a woman with a mission
I must discover the key to his ignition
And if he should make a dramatic proposition
How could I possibly refuse?
How could I possibly refuse
When I’m a stranger here myself?