What we have here is almost a love song.
I'm perfect for you, you're perfect for me.
Ev'rything they sing about we have in profusion;
The same sense of humor, a romance more than mere illusion.
So why are we almost a love song?
Why aren't we the song of the year? Does the moment go by?
Are we frightened to try?
If we are, more's the pity,
For the idea seems so pretty... to be almost a love song.
You owe me a love song.
So where is my love song, my dear?
One thing's clear here:
It's clear
We're almost a love song.
We're almost a love song.
She's so good for me,
I'm no good for him,
I'm no good for her.
He's so good for me... I imagined somebody...
I saw someone...
Who looks at things my way.
We'll travel life's highway.
Whatever the weather,
But I wonder whether
The two of us should be together.
So, why are we almost a love song,
Are we a love song?
Instead of the song of the year?
Not a good one, I fear ... Will the moment go by?
Will I lose him? Are we frightened to try?
Mustn't lose her... if I do...
If we are...
Then it's tragic; he and I have too much magic
To be almost a love song ...
Hell, I might as well face it.
You owe me a love song...
I could never replace it.
So, where is our love song, my dear?
Where is our love song, my dear?