If you don't know this tune, you can learn ity by Sunday:

Until The Real Things Come Along

(Tune: "Until the Real Thing Comes Along", Cahn/Chaplin/Freeman/Holiner )

I love your eyes,I love your face
The gentle sculpture of your face.
And if they are not real, may they stay in place,
Until the real things come along.

I love your chin, your little waistline, too
Though who designed them, no-one knows, it's true,.
But so what if they're false?  They'll just  have to do,
Until the real things come along.

With all the words dear at my command,
I just can't make you understand.
The surgeon did a fine job, touching up your nose job
He had the matter well in hand

Your bust is super, it endears me to you,
And every male within a hundred yards, it's true.
And if that isn't love it'll have to do,
Until the real things come along.