Jealousy doth mock the meat it feed's on.

I sick with her. Sick with her beautiful brown eyes,  sick with the way she lighten's my life
sick that I idolize.

Sick with the way she swings her hips,
sick with her coffee skin, sick with her look that bewitches me so, sick with the love that I'm in.

Sick with oh so rosy red lips', sick with her beguiling smile, sick with pleasure of the touch of her hand, sick with her elegant style.

And as for kissing my troubles away
I'm really sick with that.
I'm sick with hope and I'm sick with love,
so sick it's hard to cope.