BAY–BEE!

Not a cloud in sight; dancing on this site
You call me bay-bee; I love you maybe
 
Everything is right this time; my roast pork needs more Thyme
Too bad I don’t drink wine; it’ll be nice to have something in common when we dine
 
Tonight is the night; I’ll be the lady, and you the knight
The thing about your first date; it all feels like it’s fate
 
I prefer the sound of silence as I write, my mother was always right
Nothing like the taste of corn-beef stew, not many can make it only a few
 
Gold in the mine, now that you’re mine
The sky is clear; holding hands my dear