(chorus)
I'll read you poetry, I'll tell you what I know to be true
I'll make a sentimental observation bout the moon
I'll kiss you so that you could think that kisses are sublime
But I won't spend a penny, 'cuz all that you're worth is my time
You want flowers, I understand that flowers are grand
They tend to pretty up a gentleman caller's left hand
They don't stand in for love but they symbolize aptly
Grab a handful of blossoms as I pass by the crab tree
Hand these to the recipient of my affections
Urge they float in a crystal bowl, which I don't provide
The misdirections of the close magic practitioner
Unlike Bruce Wanye's winking subterfuge with the commissioner
As compared to my ability
to convince you that the mints you had fragility
Of wafer thinness established were gourmet
Palmed though they were from the bulk bin at Safeway
Hey, you want better, you better want what you need
Not too much in excess of that, lest you flaunt with your greed
"I want to be in love at any price"
Who would seek a dozen roses when a posy would suffice?
(chorus)
And I don't mean to bother my pretty head with the math
But I've yet to spend a nickel and I'm pretty good with the past
I'm pretty solid on the figures, they add up
Curvature never to enter into the graph of the ones that had love
And memorize a number of them, oh but you're final
Take the needle off the record, take the finger off the vinyl
I'll assign all necessary function to the heart
Another economy of the energy that's involved
But it's apart from the pocketbook and the bookkeeping thereof
That ledger's glued together, to open up's rough
Very difficult, and barely worth the effort
You wonder when we're going to Peru again? Never
Sever that fantasy from out your conscious mind
Let's just springin for the cabride down and that's just fine
I don't offer brim and coffers on the cost of your disgrace
A contender's sweet nothings, come on over to my place
(chorus)
We write rhymes when you meet us on the shores of the Seine
You would weep in between us, there's a gathering refrain
Cheapskate's what you call us in those moments of disdain
And it don't seem to me we're entitled to the name
Cheap what? Dirty word for such a generous soul
Who could lavish affection without any venerous goal
Or who, with such a goal in mind could apprehend
Any climax in the offing so as not to proceed a friend
And indeed the end of the world could be upon us
It could be you and me blazenly enough to astonish
All onlookers with the glory of our passion
I know my sentimental earnestness is not so much in fashion
But I'll keep it round the house, some day you'll think it's vintage
Instead of deeming it narcotic as is Olive's take on spinach
I'm gonna finish what I started with you, this you can expect
And I'll call it neverending when I call you up collect
(chorus)
