(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)