(Hank Mills)

He's home with me one hour of the day
he's in my arms one hour of the night
In the morning in the evening one little kiss
Seems to me there ought to be more to love than this.

His cuo of coffee tells the story much too much
Half a cup left yet it's warmer than his touch
He reads the papers waves goodbye throws me a kiss
Seems to me there ought to be more to love than this.

Seems to me there ought to be the sound of little feet on the floor
Instead of mine they hardly know where they're goin' anymore
If love has meaning then I wonder just where it is
Seems to me there ought to be more to love than this.

Seems to me there ought to be more to love than this...