I have been to lavender fields on what you might call
“A great day.”
Oh that the flowers would have told me,
“Love buds not with him — come fast away!”
He’ll not pray that you sit
He’ll not fight the good fight
He’ll not be by your side ‘til the end
You’re the bride and the groom
You’re your own epic bloom
You’re your bravest and loving best friend


I’m a mail-order bride
Don’t get me wrong
But you know dating
Is a too-tragic song
From far away to there
In sixty-seconds flat
White dress, bare feet
Golden Boy, beat that