I’ll go to Tuscany alone and flirt with dark eyed men
I’ll buy a zither and join a gypsy band
I’ll paint my toenails fire-engine red
I’ll learn to write Sanskrit and leave messages in indelible ink scrawled on bathroom walls in cities with names beginning with the letter “Q”
I’ll stay in on Thursdays and cry myself to sleep on Friday nights
I’ll learn to tango and propagate red roses with 12 inch stems devoid of thorns
I’ll make wishes on stars and believe they’ll come true
I'll subscribe to Ladies Home Journal
I’ll have an affair with Bob Dylan I’ll lose 10 more pounds and become famous for something truly inane
It could happen you know
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