Though I'm certain that this heart of mine
You go to my head
And I find the very mention of you
Like a sip of sparkling burgundy brew
That you might give a thought to my plea, cast a spell over me
The thrill of the thought
Can't you see that it never can be?
Like the kicker in a julep or two
You go to my head
Like a summer with a thousand Julys
And I find you spinning round in my brain
You intoxicate my soul with your eyes
With a smile that makes my temperature rise
Still I say to myself get a hold of yourself
Hasn't a ghost of a chance in this crazy romance
You go to my head
Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne