I believe that Tuesday follows Monday;
And I believe that, someday,
I could be content
With someone heaven sent.
And I believe she means it
When she says she sees it
In me, but who am I?
The one who has to try to be
All for her that she is to me.

I believe that the sky can be blue
And all that ocean too,
And when I hear her voice,
Or see her face,
I believe in a place
I like to be, just her and me
And a little white dog makes three.