His voice should be made into a cassette tape,
I'd carry it wherever I'd go,
His eyes are so piercing I'd be afraid if the stars themselves go dull,
Images in my head, engraved in my skull,
I love it when he calls me "love",
Quite ironic if you ask me,
The Great Brit!
The Great Brit!
Great Britain you see,
Where I'd much rather be,
It's much more than what I could have dreamed,
Hearing his voice ring in my ears as lovely as can be,
I think he can't agree,
Agree with me,
He believes his voice is short of magnificent,
His voice is a sweet instrument,
Must I end this right now and here?
For all I get caught up in is his voice in my ears.