Gotta Admit I gotta admit, you’ve been on my mind. Baby, can you guess the reason why? I gotta admit, being where you are is almost like getting high. Every time I see you, you look like a dream: what’s a poor boy supposed to do? I gotta admit, scares me a bit when I look deep into your eyes. But I’ll admit, I got no regret playin’ for keeps when, baby, you’re the prize. I gotta admit, I slipped a bit. Don’t know how I let the time slip by. I gotta admit when it goes to shit, I still love the fire in your eye. Every time I see you, you look like a dream: what’s a poor boy supposed to do?