You up and leave me, cold turkey When you know I could not tie my own shoe This does not please me, no not exactly Guess you do not give a damn for my love Everybody knows that she's worse than religion No, you do not cross a woman in love Every garden grows at the turn of the season But Paris in the spring doesn't mean a damn thing to my baby You beat me up, you put me down You slander my name all over town Guess I'm big enough to roll with the punches But you bruised me, you abused me damn good Everybody knows that she's worse than religion No, you do not cross a woman in love Every garden grows at the turn of the season But Paris in the spring didn't do a damn thing I love you so, so much You love me so, so what? La la la la la, la la la la La la la la la, la la la la La la la la la, la la la la La la la la la, la la la la la