Perhaps, we could go somewhere
Where the Black-eyed Susans grow
And watch the geese silently
We'll pack some food and wine
And if we become bored, some books
We will lay on the grassy ground
So tall we could disappear into
And sit quietly reading out our thought
On the lake
But clouds have become darkened
And listen to the horrible music of thunder
There's a storm brewing up yonder
We might as well stay on our PJ's
As we binge on another episode of Real Housewives
In our warm bed