The way you make me feel
my jeans don't fit, both knees are ripped
no make-up on, nail polish half gone
but you still give me that look
that says you think I'm beautiful.

You refuse to dance or wear real pants
your hair's too long, won't admit you're wrong
don't look real tough, not quite tall enough
so tell me, how'd you get so beautiful?

'Cause when I look at you
I see my future
Me and you, with a kid or two
living our lives side by side
Waking up to you each morning
and still thinking that you're beautiful.