Just Me, Just Me Sweet Marie, she loves just me (She also loves Maurice McGhee). No she don't, she loves just me (She also loves Louise Dupree). No she don't, she loves just me (She also loves the willow tree). No she don't, she loves just me! (Poor, poor fool, why can't you see She can love others and still love thee.)

But all the magic I have known I've had to make myself.

Talked my head off Worked my tail off Cried my eyes out Walked my feet off Sang my heat out So you see, There's really not much left of me.

All The Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas Layin' In The Sun, Talkin' 'Bout The Things They Woulda-Coulda-Shoulda Done... But All Those Woulda-Coulda-Shouldas All Ran Away And Hid From One Little Did.

There's a Polar Bear In our Frigidaire-- He likes it 'cause it's cold in there. With his seat in the meat And his face in the fish And his big hairy paws In the buttery dish, He's nibbling the noodles, And munching the rice, He's slurping the soda, He's licking the ice. And he lets out a roar If you open the door. And it gives me a scare To know he's in there-- That Polary Bear In our Fridgitydaire.

Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless. Christmas dinner's dark and blue. When you stop and try to see it From the turkey's point of view. Sunday dinner isn't sunny. Easter feasts are just bad luck. When you see it from the viewpoint of a chicken or a duck. Oh how I once loved tuna salad Pork and lobsters, lamb chops too Till I stopped and looked at dinner From the dinner's point of view.

He wasted his wishes on wishing.