| She makes his coffee, she makes his bed
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| She does the laundry, she keeps him fed
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| When she was twenty one she wore her mother’s lace
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| She said, «Forever,» with a smile upon her face
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| She does the carpool, she P.T.A.'s
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| Doctors and dentists, she drives all day
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| When she was twenty nine she delivered number three
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| And ev’ry Christmas card showed a perfect family
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| Ev’rything runs right on time
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| Years of practice and design
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| Spit and polish till it shines
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| He thinks he’ll keep her
|
| Ev’rything is so benign
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| The safest place you’ll ever find
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| God forbid you change your mind
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| He thinks he’ll keep her
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| She packs his suitcase, she sits and waits
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| With no expression upon her face
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| When she was thirty-six she met him at the door
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| She said, «I'm sorry, I don’t love you any more»
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| Ev’rything runs right on time
|
| Years of practice and design
|
| Spit and polish till it shines
|
| He thinks he’ll keep her
|
| Ev’rything is so benign
|
| The safest place you’ll ever find
|
| God for bid you change your mind
|
| He thinks he’ll keep her
|
| For fifteen years she had a job and not one raise in pay
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| Now she’s in the typing pool at minimum wage
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| Ev’rything runs right on time
|
| Years of practice and design
|
| Spit and polish till it shines
|
| He thinks he’ll keep her
|
| Ev’rything is so benign
|
| The safest place you’ll ever find
|
| At least until you change your mind
|
| (He thinks he’ll keep her) |