BAREFOOT, PREGNANT, AND CHAINED TO THE STOVE
I could say I'll love you till the day I die|
But you'd never believe such a promise
I could tell you you're the world's best looking guy
But I would risk offending Adonis.
I could quickly make you my one and only|
But you'd never leave all of your women
I could tell you without you I'm lonely
But you'd stay in Lothario heaven.
I could whisper in your ear that I love you|
But your raging thoughts would not let you hear
I could try out a new Parisian hair-do
But you wouldn't take your nose out of King Lear.
I could send you perfume-scented love letters|
That you would absently feed to your dog
I could pretend I'm one of those jet setters
Then crash in your impenetrable fog.
I could wear clothes in your favorite colors|
Just to remind you that you're color blind
I could say 'yes' to my gentleman callers
The ones you think are a figment of my mind.
I could do so many things to win your heart|
But not a single one of them would work
I could admit I just don't know where to start
With you acting like the world's biggest jerk.
I have been trying so hard to get my way|
And everything's turning out wrong
I can hear my grandmother's Southern drawl say
'Be careful not to come on too strong!'
So I'm taking a page out of history|
One I'm thinking you might just understand
I'm putting myself out of my misery
I am leaping right into your hand.
I'm chaining myself to the stove|
I'm discarding all of my shoes
Visible proof no more can I rove
I'll have the Stuck in Ancient History Blues.
I'll be barefoot, pregnant, and chained to the stove|
It might sound just a wee bit extreme
But if I must do this to show you my love
I care little about how it might seem.
I'll cook for you, slave for you, make babies, too|
I'll do it all with the greatest of skill
We'll be like exhibits they put in the zoo
Wildlife submitting to your manly will.