Have to breathe the independant air
so don't pay too much attention
to the kinda "permissive twit".
If I don't get you back again for our
matrimony it'll cause thunder and lightning
my beloved Susan Van Heusan.
Nothing rhymed in this january git,
no matter how I try, Houdini said
that my intro underneath the blanket go
is always outro.
I'm doing the best I can.

Hope you'll stay in my hole alone again,
naturally that's love.
Or can I go with you?
But I'm not?
Why, oh why, oh why?
I'm in love with you! Who was it Mum that
had the kettle's boiling?
Understand, what could be nicer?
All the other things is out of the question,
that's our golden rule.
I'm leaving.
Bye-bye!

A friend of mine who knows
perhaps maybe said: Get down!
Cause I'm a writer, not a fighter,
so if you love me like you love me
where peaceful waters flow,
not in a million years that I have
loved you as much as I love you today, oh baby.
Or else they've only themselves to blame.

If you ever, my Father, wonder would
you mind for 15 times that a womans
place could be nothing to do about much.
Just like me, I wonder would you mind
that Victor E is number 4?
It's so easy to be sad in the so called
marriage machine. See the thing is,
I can't get you to love me.
Why is it always somebody lovelacking?

I remember once the best fun
I ever had, you got me going.
That's where I belong.
My love and I were a good company.
At the very mention of your name, Claire,
I wish I could cry.
If I can't have you all to myself, I'll
miss my love today. I of course replied:
Ohh wakka doo wakka day, no telling why.
You are you.