Don't offer me the moon 'cause all I know
Is the dirty earth beneath my feet.
Don't offer me the stars that shine and glow--
Don't offer me the ocean wide and deep.
Don't offer me New York at Christmas season
If you don't plan to stick around through spring.
Don't offer me a place in shining heaven--
My people just don't do that sort of thing.
Instead just cook me dinner in your kitchen
And maybe take the time to bake me bread.
Instead I'll help you wash the dishes after--
I won't take stars when soup will do instead.
