The Sickness Songtext
von Ron Hawkins

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