She don't claim to be the perfect one And I don't claim to be Sir Lancelot We ain't sure when we're positive It's likely that we'll sit here scratching our heads She don't say that she loves me And I don't send her no flowers What do we got here? What do we got here? We've got something I'm not sure of It ain't likely but I think they call it love Well I think they call it love She don't climb no trees for me And I don't tell her she should We don't sneak around or step on toes Well we agree that that ain't good Everybody thinks I'm crazy And all her friends tell her to leave me alone