I'm susceptible to stars in the skies,
I'm incurably romantic,
if they're told to me all covered with sighs,
the wildest of lies seems true.
Each time a lovebird sings,
I have no defenses,
my heart is off on wings
along with my senses.
I'm a set-up for the moon when it's bright,
I'm incurably romantic.
And I shouldn't be allowed out at night,
with anyone quite like you.
But, oh! Your arms are nice,
and it would be awfully nice
if you turned out to be starry-eyed like me,
and incurably romantic too.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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