If You Are A Dreamer Come In

An Oak Tree And A Rosebush Grew, Young And Green Together, Talking The Talk Of Growing Things- Wind And Water And Weather. And While The Rosebush Sweetly Bloomed The Oak Tree Grew So High That Now It Spoke Of Newer Things- Eagles, Mountain Peaks And Sky. "i Guess You Think You're Pretty Great," The Rose Was Heard To Cry, Screaming As Loud As It Possibly Could To The Treetop In The Sky. "and Now You Have No Time For Flower Talk, Now That You've Grown So Tall." "it's Not So Much That I've Grown," Said The Tree, "it's Just That You've Stayed So Small.

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.

I Can Be Someone's And Still Be My Own.

I Tried On The Farmer's Hat, Didn't Fit. . . A Little Too Small - Just A Bit Too Floppy. . . . . I Tried On The Summer Sun, Felt Good. Nice And Warm - Knew It Would. Tried The Grass Beneath Bare Feet, Felt Neat. Finally, Finally Felt Well Dressed, Nature's Clothes Fit Me Best.

If You Want To Marry Me, Here's What You'll Have To Do: You Must Learn How To Make A Perfect Chicken-dumpling Stew. And You Must Sew My Holey Socks, And Soothe My Troubled Mind, And Develop The Knack For Scratching My Back, And Keep My Shoes Spotlessly Shined. And While I Rest You Must Rake Up The Leaves, And When It Is Hailing And Snowing You Must Shovel The Walk...and Be Still When I Talk, And-hey-where Are You Going?