Practical Arrangement

Am I asking for the moon?

Is it really so implausible?

That you and I could soon

Come to some kind of arrangement?

I'm not asking for the moon

I've always been a realist

When it's really nothing more

Than a simple rearrangement

With one roof above our heads

A warm house to return to

We could start with separate beds

I could sleep alone or learn to

I'm not suggesting that we'd find some earthly paradise forever

I mean how often does that happen now?

The answer's probably never

But we could come to an arrangement, a practical arrangement

And you could learn to love me given time

I'm not promising the moon

I'm not promising a rainbow

Just a practical solution

To a solitary life

I'd be a father to your boy

A shoulder you could lean on

How bad could it be

To be my wife?