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
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