A Fool's Shangri-La

I chase away the housewife's blues. In a cabin - fever dream. It's the little things that give you heartaches, heart -- or headache, oh such pain. It is seven a.m. Six children storming out the door. They refuse to wear their hats and their boots. It is cold and it is starting to rain. The driveway to the school bus is covered with mud. Every morning start almost the same. Too long, that I have gotten out of the house. A housewife's shores never get done. I turn on the hi-fi and dance to a waltz and pretend I am not longer alone. Sounds of the music, bring memories of youth and roses and wine, long ago. I sing to myself;" one day at the time;" fly in a jet to my homeland the Rhine and have a party all of my own. I sit across Henry, we solve the foreign affairs. I convince a sheik who has oil coming out of his ears that love is not for sale. He gives me a line, with an oil can of tears. I plead for peace with all the world leaders and make angels out of the most cruel.