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MY BABY'S ARMS (Words by Joseph McCarthy / Music by Harry Tierney, 1919) I call my sweetheart "Baby," She calls me "Baby," too, When there's anyone near us, We never let them hear us, But for embraces I know just where my place is: It seems my own sweet baby, Just loves to baby me. Tho' we both are grown up, We refuse to own up She's like a mother, How we do love each other: My baby's arms, Hold all my charms, My baby's eyes of blue, Just seem to thrill me, And fill me with a new sensation, My baby's smile, There all the while; And if she'd tell me to stay, I'd like to snuggle away, And dream forever In my baby's arms.

    


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