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Every night when |
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I go home |
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I settle down to prime-time limbo |
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When all the boys are gathered around |
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Shoutin' "Ita's on TV" |
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And though the roaches are thick on the ground |
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Somebody goes to close our window |
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Keep the noise of the city down |
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Get a dose of integrity |
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Every week, in every home |
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She's got wholesome news for the family |
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I believe, |
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I believe, in what she says |
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Yes I do I believe, |
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I believe, at the end of the day |
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Her magazine'll get me through |
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Ita's tongue never touches her lips |
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She could always be my godmother |
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And though the desktop hides her hips |
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My imagination's strong |
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She's the sweetest thing |
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I've ever seen |
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I'd like to take her out to dinner |
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But when I think about the places |
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I've been |
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I'd probably hold my fork all wrong |
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Every day and every night |
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She's the only one we can depend upon |
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I believe, |
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I believe, in what she says |
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Yes I do I believe, |
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I believe, at the end of the day |
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Her magazine'll get me through |
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To every housewife through the land |
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There is no-one else they can depend upon |
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How could |
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I not believe what |
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Ita tells me to |
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Every day and every night |
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She's the only one we can depend upon |
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How could |
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I not believe what |
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Ita tells me to |
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How could |
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I not believe what |
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Ita tells me to |
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How could |
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I not believe what |
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Ita tells me to |
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How could |
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I not believe what |
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Ita tells me to |
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Yes it's true, what |
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Ita tells me to |
