It's Beautiful

This is another work "in progress" that I got to this point last summer, and need to make up music for.

I was with some of the fellows, buying a few rounds of drinks
When some of ‘em got to talking about the woman of their dreams.

One said,
I want a woman about four feet tall
With a flat top on her head
And no teeth at all
Man that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful to me.

Another said,
I want a blonde with a cup size bigger than her IQ
A pneumatic pornographic bimbo who says
“Sounds good” whatever I want to do.
Man that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful to me.

I said you fellows haven’t thought the whole thing through.
Here’s the story of my dream woman, and every word is true.

I’d just spent my last dollar on my last beer
When she came tottering in.
She had one leg shorter than the other
And red blotches all over her skin.
She pulled out a roll of twenties
And bought me drinks again and again.
Now that was beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful to me.

A glass beside the bed
is where she keeps her teeth,
While her hair hangs in the walk-in closet
of the master suite
Of her ski chalet at the mountain,
or summer place at the beach
And that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful to me.
Yes, It’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful, yeah that’s beautiful to me.