Love Isn’t Born It’s Made [song lyrics]

Song lyrics to Love Isn’t Born It’s Made (1943). Music by Arthur Schwartz, Lyrics by Frank Loesser. Performed by Ann Sheridan and chorus girls in Thank Your Lucky Stars

Chorus girls:
Here is a book enormous
On how to conduct our lives.
Everything will come to one who waits.
But how long must a lady wait for dates?
Somebody please inform us
Exactly how love arrives?

Ann Sheridan:
You’ve got to join in the chase yourself.
Now, here’s my story, so brace yourself:

Refrain

Love isn’t born
On a beautiful April morn,
Love isn’t born,
It’s made.
And that’s why ev’ry window has a window-shade.
Love can’t do much
For a couple who don’t quite touch;
Love needs a chance
To advance.
And that’s why folks who never care for dancing, dance.
So, my precious young dove,
If you’re waiting for love,
Better make the most of your charms,
‘Cause the feeling won’t start
In the gentleman’s heart
Till you’re in the gentleman’s arms.
Love isn’t born,
That’s a fable to treat with scorn,
Let’s call a spade
A spade.
When he says, “Dear, come up and see my antique jade,”
Remember, love isn’t born, it’s made.

Interlude

Chorus girls
How true, how true, how very, very true,
It’s all a game.
How wise, how wise, how very, very wise
To fan the flame.
That old “Prince Charming” story was a fake;
The Sleeping Beauty must have been awake.
You’ve got us all believing in you.
Continue, please, continue!

Refrain 2

Ann Sheridan
Love has to climb,
It’s can’t suddenly ring that chime;
Time, sister, time
Is short.
You’ll find there’s no partition in a davenport.
Love doesn’t act
Till the cards are discreetly stacked;
Here is a fact
To face:
A man won’t take a taxi just to get no place.
So, my precious young dove,
If you’re dreaming of love,
Better lead him into the trap,
For you’ll never remain
On the gentleman’s brain
Till you’re on the gentleman’s lap.
Love won’t exist
If you constantly slap that wrist;
Right off his list
You’ll fade.
So don’t go crying wolf at ev’ry gay young blade,
And when you walk alone and forlorn
And then you hear a Cadillac horn,
Remember, love isn’t born,
It’s made.