I want to be the pop in your corn

I want to be the polish on your fingernails

I want to be the icing on your cake

I want to be the key to your front door 

I want to be the pillowcase on your bed

I want to be the lipstick in your purse

I want to be the man accompanying your hattan cocktail

I want to be the spice in your drawer

I want to be the knight in shining armor on your white horse

I want to be the talk of your town

I want to be the brightest flower in your garden

I want to be the snowy peak of your mountain climb

I want to be the music that you dance to

I want to be the keyboard on your computer

I want to be the olive in your dirty martini

I want to be the sand between your toes

I want to be the meat in your sandwich

I want to be the flame on your candle

I want to be the poached egg on your toast

I want to be the wind in your sail

I want to be the bubble in your bath

I want to be the raindrop falling on your face

I want to be the twinkle in your eye

I want to be your everything