I am at the opera; I don’t like the opera,
But he loves the opera and I love him.
I follow the libretto; I follow the conductor.
When I follow the plot my head begins to spin.
I don’t understand a word, even when it’s English.
Everyone around me says, ooh, this is divine.
I don’t like the opera, but look I’m at the opera.
It’s a good thing he can’t read my mind.
(Yes, he’s a wonderful Parsifal, and she’s the best Tundra I’ve ever seen.)
Look at me, I’m skiing when I do not like skiing,
But he loves skiing and I love him.
I rent the boots and poles; I shiver in the cold.
I’m charging down the mountain risking life and limb.
There’s no exhilaration; I’m only feeling terrified.
Everyone around me’s having such a great time.
I do not like skiing, but look at me, I’m skiing.
It’s a good thing he can’t read my mind.
(Yes, exhilarating is just the very word I was thinking of…
Scared of heights? Oh, no, not me.)
I am not complaining; I’m just making observations.
Expanding your horizons is a sign of maturation.
Now I tolerate cigars ’cause he’s a smoker.
I’m playing chess though I confess sometimes I long for poker.
I am eating sushi when I do not like sushi,
But he loves sushi and I love him.
I’m poking with a chopstick at the living, breathing fishstick.
Oh, my God! I think it’s trying to swim.
Some say eating sushi is like chewing on your own cheek
Or sucking down a bucketful of tentacled slime.
I do not like sushi, but look I’m eating sushi.
It’s a good thing he can’t read my mind.
(Yes, this is a very interesting texture. What is it? Oh…)
So if you see me in the sushi bar, see me in the mezzanine,
See me on a ski slope looking scared.
Hey, don’t feel sorry for me; I must be in love.
Why in the hell else would I be there.
Before I met him life was dull; I never took any chances.
Now I leap at every opportunity I find.
I do not like sushi; I do not like skiing or the opera.
Maybe I will in time; maybe I will in time.
(Seconds? Sure, I’d love some. Mmmmmm, yum!)