Nelson Riddle
Witchcraft
Those fingers in my hairThat sly come hither stareThat strips my conscience bareIt's witchcraftAnd I've got no defense for itThe heat is too intense for itWhat good would common sense for it do'Cause it's witchcraft, wicked witchcraftAnd although, I know, it's strictly tabooWhen you arouse the need in myMy heart says yes indeed in meProceed with what your leading me toIt's such an ancient pitchBut one I wouldn't switch'Cause there's no nicer witch than you
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