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.