Musical accompaniment: Bach, Cello Suite No.1 in G major, gigue.
I hope you’re not alone tonight
and appetizers turned out right;
I hope he’s charming as you dined
and has some loving on his mind.
I hope’s he’s handsome and robust
and that he wins your hard-earned trust;
I trust he orders the right wine,
while noticing your short hemline.
I hope he’s tall, I hope he’s slim —
I hope that you will hit on him;
the sooner that you get it on,
the sooner you’ll regret I’m gone.
I’m sure he’s got a smooth technique
for getting ladies’ kneecaps weak;
I bet he’s got a sultry smile
that turns them on just like a dial.
He’s well-traveled and knows a lot —
especially what can’t be taught;
there’s no one who’s more debonair
about approaching underwear;
here’s hoping that he makes you blush —
here’s hoping your heart turns to mush;
here’s hoping the two of you boff —
the sooner you will call it off.
I hope the dinner’s a success —
I hope he gets you to undress;
here’s hoping that you get moonstruck
the quicker you see through his shuck;
I bet he’s quite the Galahad —
I’m sure he’s something of a cad;
I ought to like him more, it’s true —
he’s going to help me get back you.
There’s lots of guys that you can date
and I suppose I’ll have to wait
until the day you know it’s true
that only I would marry you.