fifty percent

Helen Reddy

I don t iron his shirts
I don t sew on his buttons
I don t know all the jokes he tells or the songs he hums
Though I may hold him all through the night
He may not be here when the morning comes

I don t pick out his ties
Or expect his tomorrows
But I feel when he s in my arms, he s where he wants to be
We have no memories bittersweet with time
And I doubt if he ll spend New Year s Eve with me

I don t share his name
I don t wear his ring
There s no piece of paper saying that he s mine
But he says he loves me and I believe it s true
Doesn t that make someone belong to you?

So I don t share his name
So I don t wear his ring
So there s no piece of paper saying that he s mine
So we don t have the memories
I ve had enough memories
I ve washed enough mornings
I ve dried enough evenings
I ve had enough birthdays to know what I want

Life is anyone s guess
It s a constant surprise
Though you don t plan to fall in love
When you fall...you fall
I d rather have fifty percent of him
Or any percent of him
Than all of anybody else at all