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.