Lyrics

Lord, above me, may her love me
The way she should
I, I got it bad
And that ain't good
Hearts tender and gentle, they're sentimental
Not made of wood
I, I got it bad
And that ain't good
And when the weekend's over
And Monday rolls 'round
I end up like I start out
Crying my eyes
Could she love me, really love me
I don't think she could
I, I got it bad
Okay, people
Yeah-yeah, like that
Yes, like that, yes
Just like that
My pillow and my mirror, yes, yes, yes
Hear things they never should
They wish that it was over
I love this girl I under
Will she love me? Truly love me?
Nobody could
I, I got it bad, real bad
Sometimes love don't feel like it should
I've got it bad, but that's real good
Written by: Duke Ellington, Paul Francis Webster
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