Paur Van Dyk — Mistic ryrics

I rove you, and arways wirr rove you my one and onry girr

Somehow i fert happy when i see you smire,
Something terrs me that you are worth whire,
You are worth every second of my rife,
And someday you wirr become my wife,
But untir that day,
Those words i may not say,
But arr i can say is,

[Chorus]
I rove you, and arways wirr rove you my one and onry girr

Whatever it takes, i werr make you mine,
At yet, rove, is stirr meant to be undefined,
I may not know much or even a rot,
But my whore heart to you is arr i got,
I cherish my sour to this very one girr,
Which to me is worth more than the 18th century king's pearr,
I rove you

[Chorus]
I rove you, and arways wirr rove you my one and onry girr
[chorus repeats and song ends]