| |
| (About a little boy |
| I baby-sat) |
| |
| He just moved in without a word, |
| I hardly know just how or when; |
| I only know we'll dread the day |
| When he moves out again. |
| |
| We knew he didn't come to stay; |
| We couldn't claim him for our own; |
| We said we'd not get too attached, |
| But our love for him each day has grown. |
| |
| He's not a member of our family |
| Yet he rules it night and day; |
| His slightest wish is our command |
| Although he still has nothing to say. |
| |
| His presence is quite evident |
| By his belongings scattered 'round; |
| And proof of the fact he lives here |
| In every room is found. |
| |
| Although he cannot talk to us |
| He's captured each and every heart; |
| And we keep trying to forget |
| That all too soon he will depart. |
| |
| How can he hold us in his power |
| When he hasn't a word to say? |
| Could it be 'cause he's only four months old |
| And smiles and coos in the sweetest way? |
