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.
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