Ron Hawkins - The Sickness (That's What They Call Love)

Your voice
It makes me sing
And your bell
It makes me ring
And your spell tenderly stings
This sickness is what they call love

Your eyes
They make me shy
And your touch
It warms my nights
And your tears can make me cry
And this sickness, that's what they call love

Sunshine, your fine
From sunrise to supper time
But, ooh-ee, sweet pea
The sun sets and the fever peaks

Your wave
It leaves me sunk
And your wine
It leaves me drunk
And your yard is full of my junk
And that sickness, that's what they call love

And when your hair is grey
I'll be there, the very same way
And we'll share each other's pain
And that sickness, that's what we'll call love

Written by:
Ronald James Hawkins

Publisher:
Lyrics © CD Baby

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