Tell me, is love
still a popular suggestion,
or merely an obsolete art?
Forgive me for asking
this simple question;
I'm unfamiliar with his heart,
cause I'm a stranger here myself.

Why is it wrong
to murmur, "I adore him!"
when it's shamefully obvious I do?
Does love embarrass him,
or does it bore him?
I'm only waiting for my cure,
cause I'm a stranger here myself.

I dream of a day,
of a gay warm day
with my face between his hands.
Have I missed the path?
Have I gone astray?
I ask, but no one understands.

Love me or leave me!
That seems to be the question.
I don't know which tactics to use.
But, if he should offer
a personal suggestion,
how could I possibly refuse,
when I'm a stranger here myself?

Please tell me,
tell a stranger,
by curiousity goaded,
is there really any danger
that love is now out-moded?
I'm interested especially
in knowing why you waste it.
True romance is so fleshly.
With what have you replaced it?
What is your latest foibal?
Is Gin Rummy more exquisite?
Is skiing more enjoyable?
For heaven's sake, what is it?

I can't believe
that love has lost its glamour,
that passion is really passé.
If gender is just a term in grammar,
how can I ever find my way,
since I'm a stranger here myself?

How can he ignore
my available condition?
Why these Victorian views?
You see here, before you
a woman with a mission:
I must discover the key to his ignition.
And then, if he should make
a diplomatic proposition,
how could I possibly refuse?
How could I possibly refuse,
when I'm a stranger here myself?