The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

Please honey, when we meet tonight Don’t tell me about your mounting bills Or the man who killed your poodle I don’t wanna hear about your problems I don’t wanna hear about your paycheck That won’t get you through the month. Details like those kill the hunter in his tracks. He wants to end the night remembering you Posing against the bonnet of your midnight blue Porsche and the glittering jingle of your golden bangles. Honey, it’s not like we’re gonna live together after we’re married. I mean that kind of stuff really cools the fire and kills the flame.Tell me more about the kind of cheques that you write; now that is love. Honey, when we’re married you can write all over me. That kind of getting to know the real me stuff is not the stuff Dreams are made of; honey, dreams are fairy tales. I am your prince and you are my princess Now save that stuff for reality.