sam cooke
moulin rouge
When ever we kiss, I worry and wonder. Your lips may be near, but where is your heart?  It's always like this, I worry and wonder. You're close to me here, but where is your heart?  It's a sad thing to realize  that you've a heart that never melts. When we kiss, do you close your eyes, pretending that I'm someone else?  You must break the spell, this cloud that I'm under. So please won't you tell, darling, where is your heart? 