I Know Seymour's The Greatest,
But I'm Dating A Semi-sadist.
So I Got A Black Eye,
And My Arm's In A Cast.

Still That Semour's A Cutie.
Well, If Not, He's Got Inner Beauty.
And I Dream Of A Place,
Where We Can Be Together, At Last.

A Matchbox Of Our Own.
A Fence Of Real Chainlink.
A Grill Out On The Patio.
Disposal In The Sink.
A Washer And A Dryer,
And An Ironing-machine.
In A Tract House That We Share,
Somewhere That's Green.

He Rakes And Trims The Grass.
He Loves To Mow And Weed.
I Cook Like Betty Crocker,
And I Look Like Donna Reed.
There's Plastic On The Furniture
To Keep It Neat And Clean.
In The Pine-Sol Scented Air,
Somewhere That's Green.




Between Our Frozen Dinner,
And Our Bed-time Nine-fifteen.
We Snuggle Watching Lucy,
On A Big, Enormous, Twelve-inch Screen.

Oh, His December Bride,
He's Father, He Knows Best.
The Kids Play Howdy-Doody,
As The Sun Sets In The West.
A Picture Out Of Better Homes
And Gardens Magzine.
Far From Skid Row,
I Dream We'll Go...
Somewhere That's Green.