Here's another one. This one always amused me. I wrote it over 20 years ago, I guess, with a very clever English lyricist named Desmond Carter. This one gained a little recognition over there. As I said before, piano playing was a serious hobby of mine, so, you know, I was bound to sneak some of it in here someplace. I'll start off by playing the first chorus the same style as I used to do it then. Oscar rescues me and takes it from there. Here I go with Not My Girl. I've read about those tender girls, those ready to surrender girls. I've got one of a tougher kind, rougher kind, the make-men-suffer kind. Who's sweet to me? Not my girl. Who's kind to me? Not my girl. You want to know what my girl can be? Listen to me. The sight of her wakes man up. A day with her shakes man up. She practically breaks men up. She's not an Annabelle-e. Without her, I could not exist. The way that she loves is frightening, and on the day that she and I first kissed, I thought I was struck by lightning. Who's heavenly? Not my girl. Who wants to be? Not my girl. If only you'd got my girl. You know what's matter with me. Who's heavenly? Not my girl. Who wants to be? Not my girl. If only you'd got my girl. Who's sweet to me? Not my girl. Who's kind to me? Not my girl. Do you want to know what my girl can be? Listen to me. The moment she chooses you, your family loses you. Her kissing just bruises you. You learn what loving can be. Some girls knit socks, but she's not quite the sort to be neat and tidy. And the socks she gave me Wednesday night just put me to sleep till Friday. Who's heavenly? Not my girl. Who wants to be? Not my girl. If only you'd got my girl. You know what's the matter with me.