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 Seymour'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 chain link
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, me, his December bride; he's father - he knows best
The kids watch Howdy-Doody as the Sun sets in the West
A picture out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine

Far from Skid Row

I dream we'll go

Somewhere that's Green