Tell me, is love still a popular suggestion
Or merely an obsolete art?
Forgive me for asking this simple question
I'm unfamiliar with her heart
I’m a stranger here myself

Why is it wrong to murmur I adore her
When it's shamefully obvious I do?
Does love embarrass her or does it bore her?
I'm only waiting for my cue
I’m a stranger here myself

I dream of a day, of a gay warm day
With my face between her 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 she 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 sakes, what is it?

I can't believe that love has lost its glamor
That passion is really passé
If gender is just a term in grammar
How can I ever find my way
When I'm a stranger here myself?

How can she ignore my available condition?
Why these Victorian views?
You see here before you a man with a mission
I must discover the key to her ignition
And then if she should make a diplomatic proposition
How could I possibly refuse?
When I'm a stranger here myself?