(Shel Silverstein)
Ever` mornin` won`t you you wake up early cook me great big T-bone steak
Serve it to me in bed go on the street and hustle bring me back all the money you make
Won`t you rub my body with sweet scented oil, cool me with a `lectric fan
Run to the church fall down on your knees say "Lord I wanna thank you for that man"
And I`ll call that true love, true and sweet
That ain`t the kind of love I`m gettin`
But baby that`s the kind of love I need
I wanna come home every evenin` to a great big meal of wine and roasted pheasant
I want you to say to me "Ray, hey this is Susy, this is Kay, I brought `em both home to you for a present"
When "The Man" downs his soul and find my stash, won`t you tell `em it belongs to you
And when you`re sittin` in the slam tell all the other chickies when they get out they should look me up too
And I`ll call that true love, true and sweet
That ain`t the kind of love I`m gettin`
But baby that`s the kind of love I need
Some guy accuses me of foolin` with his wife threatens to take me apart
Points a gun at me, I want you to jump in the middle and take the bullet in your own heart
And as you`re lyin` on the floor and dyin`, I want you to look up at me and say
"Hey Ray I`m sorry I messed up your rug, just roll my body out of the way"
And I`ll call that true love, true and sweet
That ain`t the kind of love I`m gettin`
But baby that`s the kind of love I need
Hollywood calls you on the telephone I want you to turn down the part
And when we`re ballin` baby, ride on top so I never ever strain my heart
And I`ll call that true love, true and sweet
That ain`t the kind of love I`m gettin`......
(c)1972 Evil Eye Music Inc.