Weak in the Knees       

by

Stephen H. Moore and Darren Gregory

 

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She’s got a way of scrunching up the muscles in her face

That’s makes me glad to be a member of this here human race

Her lips must be  - the softest here on Earth

Her eyes are strong and gentle, prone to misery and mirth

She’s got a measure of class

And legs up to her ass

She makes me weak in the knees

 

 

Her picture’s in the Webster’s If you look up “summer breeze”

Wish that she could meet my mamma, I know that she’d be pleased

Her voice is very soothing

Like the wind coming through the trees

She makes me tingle all over

Like I’m about to sneeze

She’s got a measure of class

And legs up to her ass

She makes me weak in the knees

 

 

She’s got a sunny disposition, really brightens up my day

She’s got a wicked sense of humor, and she knows just what to say

She’s got hips like a sculpture

I love to watch them sway

Feels like a bolt of lightning

When she looks my way

She’s got a measure of class

And legs up to her ass

She makes me weak in the knees

 

 

I’m so tired of chasing after this long parade of tarts

Lord, send me please a woman, who’ll let me share her heart

She’s out of my league, I wouldn’t know just where to start

I’d give my right-eye tooth for a woman in the arts

She’s got a measure of class

And legs up to her ass

She makes me weak in the knees

 

© 2003  Stephen H. Moore and Darren Gregory