AND I IN MY CHAIR
Charles Aznavour
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He, he observes you from where he sits You, it unnerves you, you lose your wits He, he ignites you with eyes aflame You, it excites you, you like the game And I, in my chair, although I hardly speak I notice each innuendo And I, in my chair, I'm stricken with fear At seeing the end so near He, out to win you, he woos with style You, you continue to coyly smile He, with his quarry on hunting ground You, only sorry that I'm around And I, in my chair, although I hardly speak I see just how well he's doing And I, in my chair, I'm trying to hide The dread that I hold inside He, his eyes flatter, your glances touch You, now you chatter a bit too much He, like a gypsy, he serenades You, you grow tipsy, your laugh cascades And I, in my chair, although I hardly speak My heart's on the verge of crying And I, in my chair, my heart understands Love is now changing hands No, no, it's nothing, a little headache only Maybe I had one too many? Well, we'd better go home now Yes, this was a beautiful evening Indeed, a beautiful evening
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Written by: Charles AZNAVOUR
Lyrics © EDITIONS MUSICALES DJANIK, T.R.O. INC.
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