Oh my heart is beating wildly and it's all because you're here
When I'm not near the girl I love, I love the girl I'm near
Every femme that flutters by me is a flame that must be fanned
When I can't fondle the hand I'm fond of, I fondle the hand at hand
My heart's in a pickle, it's constantly fickle and not too partic'lar I fear
When I'm not near the girl I love, I love the girl I'm near
What if their tall or tender, what if their small or slender
Long as the've got that gender, I s'rrender.
Always I can't refuse 'em, always my feet pursues 'em
Long as they got a bosom I woos 'em.
As I'm more and more a mortal
I am more and more a case
When I'm not facing the face that I fancy
I fancy the face I face
For Sharon I'm caring but Susan I'm choosing
I'm faithful to whos'n is here
When I'm not near the girl I love
I love the girl I'm near.
Writer(s): E. Y. Harburg, Burton Lane
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