The object of my affection Can change my complexion From white to rosy red Anytime he holds my hand And tells me that he's mine There are many of men who can thrill me And some who can fill me With dreams of happinness But I'll never rest until He tells me that he's mine Now he's not the kind that'll leave me Cause he's not the type to be unfair But instead I trust him implicitly He can go where he wants to go Do what he wants to do I don't care The object of my affection Can change my complexion From white to rosy red Anytime he holds my hand And tells me that he's mine He's not the kind that'll leave me Not the kind to be unfair But instead I trust him implicitly He can go, do I don't care The object of my affection Can change my complexion From white to rosy red Anytime he holds my hand And tells me that he's mine, oh mine He's so pure He's so sweet God-- (?) See, I'd stay in line But the object of my affection is mine Oh, mine