mad about the boy

i met him at a party just a couple of years ago

he was rather over-hearty and ridiculous

but as i'd seen him on the screen he cast a certain spell

i'd basked in his attraction

for a couple of hours or so

his manners were a fraction too meticulous

if he was real or not

i couldn't tell

but like a silly fool i fell

mad about the boy

i know it's stupid

to be mad about the boy

i'm so ashamed of it

but must admit

the sleepless nights

i've had about the boy

on the silver screen

he melts my foolish heart

in every single scene

although i'm quite aware

that here and there

are traces of a cad about the boy

lord knows i'm not a fool girl

i really shouldn't care

lord knows i'm not a schoolgirl

in the flurry of her first affair

will it ever cloy

this odd diversity of misery and joy

i'm feeling quite insane

and young again

and all because

i'm mad about the boy

it seems a little silly

for a girl of my age and weight

to walk down piccadilly in a haze of light

it ought to take her a good deal more

to take a bad girl down

i should've been exempt for my particular kind of fate

as taught me such contempt for every phase of love

and now i've been and spent my love torn crown

to weep about a painted clown

mad about the boy

it's pretty funny

but i'm mad about the boy

he has a gay appeal that makes me feel

there's maybe something sad about the boy

walking down the street

his eyes look out at me from people that i meet

i can't believe it's true

but when i'm blue

in some strange way

i'm glad about the boy

i'm hardly sentimental

love isn't so sublime

i have to pay my rental

and i can't afford to waste much time

if i could employ a little magic

that would finally destroy

this dream that pains me and it shames me

but i can't because i'm mad about the boy