Bill's Dad's Mags

When I was a boy a good book was my only joy
With glossy pages all tattered, the only thing that ever mattered
The answer to my prayers: Found in a stack underneath the stairs
I’d steal down, my breath baited to where that secret treasure awaited

Bill’s Dad’s Mags
Jan was blowing out the birthday candles
Francine was dusting in a French maid’s bonnet
Mary sprawled out on a white bear rug
Who said boys don’t like to play with dolls?

Oh it was quite a collection, a library for my affection
And I would study for hours, transformed by their powers
I’d read from cover to cover, on each page my perfect lover
My imagination was fed by brunette, blonde, and red

Bill’s Dad’s Mags
April’s matching purse and parasol
Marlene picking flowers in the garden
June had a sailor’s hat and anchor tattoo
Who said boys don’t like to play with dolls?

You can keep your Hot Wheels and your G.I. Joes (and stick them up your nose)
You can keep your baseball cards and your super heroes
Give me truth, give me beauty, give me a work of art
Give me a woman who is tall, short, fat, skinny, light, dark, sweet, or tart

Bill’s Dad’s Mags
Julie lit a bottle rocket in high heels
Audrey in glasses drew a heart in the sand
Sandy outside grilling steaks with a beer
Who said boys don’t like to play with dolls?

From Genesis to Revelation, the alphabet of my elation
Wasn’t written down in scriptures, but documented in pictures
And though you might ridicule, I learned more from them than I did in school
Their biological nomenclature taught me the power of nature

Bill’s Dad’s Mags
Ingrid putting lipstick on a letter
Natasha roasting marshmallows by the fire
Christine unwrapping gifts under the tree
Who said boys don’t like to play with dolls?

Bill's Dad's Mags

© 2014 Robert Morris Black / Leprechaun Club Music (ASCAP) All Rights Reserved.