When I’m Not Near the Boy I Love
Burton Lane, E. Y. Harburg
Oh, my heart is beating wildly
And it's all because you're here
When I'm not near the boy I love
I love the boy I'm near
Every man that wanders by me
Is a flame that must be fanned
When I can't fondle the hand I'm fond of
I fondle the hand at hand
My heart's in a pickle, it's constantly fickle
And not too particule, I fear
When I'm not near the boy I love
I love the boy I'm near
(We're confessing a confession
And we hope we're not verbose)
When I'm not near the kiss that I cling to
I cling to the kiss that's close
My heart's in a pickle, it's constantly fickle
And not too particle, I fear
When I'm not near the boy I love
I love the boy I'm near