I know Seymour's the greatest
But I'm dating a semi-sadist
So I've 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 could be together at last
It's just a day dream of mine. A little development I always dreamed of. Just off the interstate. Not fancy like Levittown. Just a little street in a little suburb, far far from urban Skid Row. The sweetest, greenest place - where everybody has the same little lawn out front and the same little flagstone patio out back. And all the houses are so neat and pretty... 'Cause they all look just a like. Oh, I dream about it all the time. Just me. And the toaster. And a sweet little guy. Like Seymour -
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 bedtime, nine-fifteen
We snuggle watchin' Lucy
On our big, enormous twelve-inch screen
I'm his December Bride
He's Father, he Knows Best
Our 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.
