Bill

Who's not the type at all.

You'd meet him on the street

And never notice him.

His form and face

His manly grace

Is not the kind that you

Would find in a statue

Yet I can't explain

It's surely not his brain

That makes me thrill

I love him because he's wonderful

Because he's just my Bill.

I used to dream that I would discover

The perfect lover

Someday

I knew I'd recognize him

If ever he came round my way

I always used to fancy then

He would be of the God-like kind of men

With the giant strength

And the noble head

Like the heroes bold

In the books I've read

And along come Bill

An ordinary boy

He hasn't got a thing

That I can brag about

And yet to be

Upon his knee

So comfy and roomy

Feels natural to me

Oh I

I can't explain

It's surely not his brain

That makes me thrill

I love him because he's

I don't know

Because he's just my Bill.