1946
THE GIRL THAT I MARRY WILL HAVE TO BE,
AS SOFT AND PINK AS A NURSERY.
THE GIRL I CALL MY OWN,
WILL WEAR SATINS AND LACES
AND SMELL OF COLOGNE.
HER NAILS WILL BE POLISHED
AND IN HER HAIR,
SHE’LL WEAR A GARDENIA
AND I’LL BE THERE.
‘STEAD OF FLITTIN’, I’LL BE SITTIN’
NEXT TO HER AND
SHE’LL PURR LIKE A KITTEN.
A DOLL I CAN CARRY
THE GIRL THAT I MARRY MUST BE.
