You wear fine things well.
Even when you’re tripping,
you just make it look so swell.
When I’m being moody,
a single glance of yours is calming me down.
I’m losing my faith,
whenever you doubt yourself.
You know that I’m glowing up,
observing your every move.
With you, my cup
is always half full. I love the way you groove.
These days are happy;
together with you. We are yappy,
and we laugh about it.
Even at your lowest, you make me feel safe.
Being seen by you in this particular way
is the water lifting up my wave.
You let me be me, whatever I say.
You make room for my grumpiness, without decay.
Happy days, oh, happy days.