Pleasantville

Pleasantville God sends cookies every day The kind that have a crunch with walnuts From the center of the universe Buildings topple without sin in Pleasantville They have their reasons To rise up again to house clean thoughts Long walks create tranquility produced at will Everyone enjoys paying rent, making beds Singing Beatles songs peppered with color Not all things are black and white Mornings share their structure with pretty birds of prey In accordance with local ordinances of course Making houses starts by removing fire As unpleasant as they may seem Pleasantville is still a swell place for mom and pop Drinking tea on porches held up by the community Perfect and lovely are the only words allowed This is not just another cookie kind of town