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Meet me in the storm roomWe'll count all the canned foodI'll let my voice go raspyAnd you'll wear tasteful thingsWe'll swim in the pool nakedI'll smoke marijuana outsideWe'll name our dogs after cartoonsI'll walk to the groceryThe cashier keeps up with meCute in that too young sort of wayI'll sing ya songs while we run errandsWhatever's on my mindWe'll pay our taxes and vote in the primaryAnd we'll keep a real green lawn...And we'll keep a real green lawn...And we'll keep a real green lawn... From Letras Mania