Yellow Purse
Yellow purse, high up there on the shelf.
Yellow purse, I want you for myself.
You're made of plastic, and…
You have elastic, and…
I hold you in my hand…
I think you look just grand…
And when I get you home…
Pile in everything I own…
Oh, how I'll love my new purse.
Yellow purse, they want me to pay full price.
Yellow purse, I don't think that's very nice.
I shop from store to store…
Each one is charging more…
Drive all around the town…
Waiting for your mark-down…
Then one day I read…
Exactly what I need…
They've finally put you on sale.
Yellow bag -- you'll carry all my swag.
Yellow bag -- you clean up with just a damp rag.
I went shopping every day…
I even put some on lay-away…
But when the day was done…
I knew they were not the one…
Then, finally, one night…
This one's exactly right…
I've just found my new bag.
My pink pants, I think they were made in France.
My pink pants, I wear them at every chance.
They go with my new shirt…
A necklace wouldn't hurt…
They're just my favorite shade…
I got them tailor-made…
There's just one thing I fear…
That always brings a tear…
They just don't go with my purse.
Copyright © Robert Grappel | Year Posted 2019
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