Tekst:
Herb Alpert The Tijuana Brass

Tell her you care each time you speak Make it her birthday each day of the week Bring her nice things, sugar and spice things Roses and lollipops and

Dear God, you made many, many poor people I realize, of course, that it's no shame to be poor But it's no great honor, either So what would have been

When a zither starts to play You'll remember yesterday In its haunting strain Vienna lives again Free and bright and gay In your mind a sudden gleam

Never thought I'd fall, but now I hear love call I'm getting sentimental over you Things you say and do, just thrill me through and through I'm getting

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you Tomorrow I'll miss you Remember I'll always be true And then while I'm away I'll write home every day And I'll send

Grown accustomed to her looks Oh I, I've grown, grown accustomed to her voice I've grown accustomed to her face She almost makes the day begin I've grown

[Foreign content] Tall and tan and young and lovely The girl from Ipanema goes walking And when she passes Each one she passes goes ah When she walks

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What do you get when you fall in love? You only get lies, pain and sorrow So for at least until tomorrow I'll never fall in love again I'll never fall