You are the apple of my eye,
you're the cherry in my pie,
you're my strawberry shortcake,
you're the cobbler that I bake,
you're my grapes hanging on the vine,
and you're my watermelon wine,
you're my plum pudding this I know,
you're the pear that I love so,
it seems that your my fruit salad,
you're the raisin in my bread,
maybe you're my berry muffin instead,
could you be my banana split,
or a peach without a pit,
you're not a prune, wrinkled and old,
but whipped cream, smooth and cold,
it seems that your my fruit salad,
you're the orange upon my tree,
tomato you look good to me,
you are my lemon and my lime,
my grapefruit in the summertime,
you apricots are good when dried,
green tomatos when they are fried,
it seems that you're my fruit salad,
you're my sweet honeydew,
there is not a thing as sweet as you,
put you all into a bowl,
it is enough to tempt any soul,
yes you're my fruit salad.
