What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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Something
Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover
Something in the way that she woos me
Don't want to leave her now
Better believe, and how
Somewhere in her smile she knows
I don't need no other lover
Something in her style that shows me
Don't want to leave her now
Better believe, and how
You're asking me will my love grow
Well, I don't know, no, I don't know
You stick around, Jack, it might show
I don't know, no, I don't know
Something in the way she knows
All I gotta do is just think of her
Something in the things that she shows me
Don't want to leave her now
Better believe, and how
You're asking me will my love grow
I don't know, no, I don't know
But you hang around, Jack, it might show
I don't know, no, I don't know
Something in the way she knows me
And all I gotta do is just think of her
Something in those things that she shows me
Don't want to leave her now
Better believe, and how
I don't plan to leave her now