I came to you to write about your blue eyes,
but I could never write about your blue eyes.
I could try "dark," or "clear," or "beauty," or "deep,"
but hey, ceci n'est pas une pipe.
There are a lot of other things, besides,
besides your beautiful deep blue eyes.
Behind every visible thing's another thing that hides,
and there's a gentleman and a laugh behind your blue eyes.
The story of my life is not worth telling,
but the story of your eyes is that I fell in;
and from a completely objective point of view,
I fell into your eyes before I fell in love with you.
I came to you to sing about your blue eyes,
but if i'm honest i'll admit that it's a poor guise;
still I could sing "funny," "kind," or "perfect," or "blue,"
but ceci continue de n'ĂȘtre pas vous.
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