Mad about the boy,
I know its stupid to be mad about the boy,
Im so ashamed of it, but must admit
The sleepless nights Ive had about the boy.
On the silver screen,
He melts my foolish heart in evry single scene,
Although Im quite aware that here and there,
Are traces of a cad about the boy.
Lord knows Im not a fool girl,
I really shouldnt care.
Lord knows Im not a schoolgirl,
In the flurry of her first affair.
Will it ever cloy?
This odd diversity of misery and joy.
Im feeling quite insane and young again
And all because Im mad about the boy.
A Fiddler's Tale: Scene 5. Narrator: "The illness of the land..."
de Ray Noble
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