Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
Roger Whittaker
The game of "just supposing" is the sweetest game I know
Our dreams are more romantic than the world we see
And if the things we dream about don't happen to be so
That's just an unimportant technicality
We could make believe I love you
Only make believe that you love me
Others find peace of mind in pretending
Couldn't you? Couldn't I? Couldn't we
Make believe our lips are blending
In a phantom kiss, or two, or three?
Might as well make believe I love you
For to tell the truth, I do
Your pardon I pray, 'twas too much to say
The words that betray my heart
We only pretend, you do not offend
In playing a lover's part
Though the cold and brutal fact is you and I have never met
We need not mind convention's P's and Q's
If we put our thoughts in practice we can banish all regret
Imagining most anything we choose
We could make believe I love you
Only make believe that you love me
Others find peace of mind in pretending
Couldn't you? Couldn't I? Couldn't we
Make believe our lips are blending
In a phantom kiss or two, or three?
Might as well make believe I love you
For to tell the truth, I do