We met in a parking lot
I was buying coffee and cigerattes
firewood and bad wine long since gone
But I am still drunk and hot, wide awake and breathing hard.
Now in just one years time I've become jealous, rail thin, proned to paranoia when I am stoned.
This isn't true love, someone oughta put me in a home.
Say do you want to get married?
Put an end to our endless progressive tendencies to scorn
eventual concepts like your dowery and your daddy's farm?
For love to find us of all people.
I'd never thought it'd be so simple.
Let's buy a plantation house and let the yard grow wild till we don't need the sign that says keep out.
I've got some money left and it's cheaper in the south.
I need someone I can trust to protect me from our seven daughters when my body says enough.
Don't let me die in a hospital, I'll save the big one for the last time we make love.
Insert here a sentiment re: our golden years
All cause I went to the store one day
"Seen you around, what's your name?"