I don't iron his shirts I don't sew on his bu*tons I don't know all the jokes he tells or the songs he hums Though I may hold him all through the night He may not be here when the morning comes I don't pick out his ties Or expect his tomorrows But I feel when he's in my arms, he's where he wants to be We have no memories bittersweet with time And I doubt if he'll spend New Year's Eve with me I don't share his name I don't wear his ring There's no piece of paper saying that he's mine But he says he loves me and I believe it's true
Doesn't that make someone belong to you? So I don't share his name So I don't wear his ring So there's no piece of paper saying that he's mine So we don't have the memories I've had enough memories I've washed enough mornings I've dried enough evenings I've had enough birthdays to know what I want Life is anyone's guess It's a constant surprise Though you don't plan to fall in love When you fall you fall I'd rather have fifty percent of him Or any percent of him Than all of anybody else at all