Mad about the boy, I know it's stupid To be mad about the boy. I'm so ashamed of it But must admit The sleepless nights I've had about the boy. On the silver screen He melts my foolish heart In every single scene. Although I'm quite aware That here and there Are traces of that cared about the boy. Lord knows I'm not a fool girl, I really shouldn't care. Lord knows I'm not a schoolgirl In the flurry of her first affair. Will it ever cloy This odd diversity of misery and joy I'm feeling quite insane And young again And all because I'm mad about the boy.