Mad about the boy,
I know it’s stupid to be mad about the boy,
I’m so ashamed of it, but must admit
The sleepless nights I’ve had about the boy.

On the silver screen,
He melts my foolish heart in ev’ry single scene,
Although I’m quite aware that here and there,
Are traces of a cad about the boy.

Lord knows I’m not a fool girl,
I really shouldn’t care.
Lord knows I’m not a schoolgirl,
In the flurry of her first affair.

Will it ever cloy?
This odd diversity of misery and joy.
I’m feeling quite insane and young again
And all because I’m mad about the boy.

Mad about the boy,
it's pretty funny, but I'm mad about the boy
He has a gay appeal, that makes me feel
 There's maybe something sad about the boy.

Walking down the street
His eyes look out at me from people that I meet;
I can't believe it's true, but when I'm blue,
In some strange way, I'm glad about the boy.

I'm hardly sentimental,
Love isn't so sublime,
I have to pay my rental and I can't afford to waste much time.

If I could employ
A little magic that would finally destroy
This dream that pains me and enchains me, but I can't,
Because I'm mad about the boy!
Mad about the boy!


(Noel Coward has written this song to his lover,
he was gay)

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