There was a schoolteacher named Connie
Who didn’t have a whole lot of money.
But, nevertheless,
I must now confess,
To most men she was some sort of honey.

Fell in love with a Farmer named Garry
And it was he that she wanted to marry.
It was ever so nice
Except for the mice
In his farmhouse which were quite scary.

Tho not as scary as her upcoming life
When she would become Garry’s new wife.
Differences so few
But freedom’s askew
For each quirk threatened marital strife.

Like, which store brands one should acquire
And what one should wear for proper attire.
Who’ll do every chore,
Who’ll go to the store,
And what time every night one should retire.

Attention paid to how toothpaste is squeezed
And whether or not one another has sneezed.
How beds are made,
How bills are paid,
Yes, and whether in bed, the other has pleased.

Now Connie, dear, as your Wedding Day draws nigh,
Note the consequences of the love knot you’ll tie.
No more “just you,”
When you say, “I do,”
Say farewell to Miss Liberty, kiss Freedom goodbye!