The Shape of Things Songtext
von Blossom Dearie
The Shape of Things Songtext
Completely round is the perfect pearl
The oyster manufactures
Completely round is the steering wheel
That leads to compound fractures
Completely round is the golden fruit
That hangs from the orange tree
Yes, the circle shape is quite renowned
And sad to say, it can be found
In the dirty low down, runaround
My true love gave to me, yes,
My true love gave to me
Completely square is the velvet box
He said my ring would be in
Completely square is the envelope
He wrote farewell to me in
Completely square is the handkerchief
I flourish constantly
As I dry my eyes of the tears I shed
And blow my nose that turned bright red
Perfect square is my true love′s head
He will not marry me, no, he will not marry me
Rectangular is the hotel door
My true love tried to sneak through
Rectangular is the transom
Over which I had to peek through
Rectangular is the hotel room I entered angrily
Now rectangular is the wooden box
Where lies my love neath the golden phlox
They say he died from the chicken pox
In part I must agree, one chick too many had he
Triangular is the piece of pie
I eat to ease my sorrow
Triangular is the hatchet blade
I plan to hide tomorrow
Triangular the relationship
That now has ceased to be
And the self same shape is the garment thin
That fastens on with a safety pin
To a prize I had no wish to win
It's a lasting memory that my true love gave to me
The oyster manufactures
Completely round is the steering wheel
That leads to compound fractures
Completely round is the golden fruit
That hangs from the orange tree
Yes, the circle shape is quite renowned
And sad to say, it can be found
In the dirty low down, runaround
My true love gave to me, yes,
My true love gave to me
Completely square is the velvet box
He said my ring would be in
Completely square is the envelope
He wrote farewell to me in
Completely square is the handkerchief
I flourish constantly
As I dry my eyes of the tears I shed
And blow my nose that turned bright red
Perfect square is my true love′s head
He will not marry me, no, he will not marry me
Rectangular is the hotel door
My true love tried to sneak through
Rectangular is the transom
Over which I had to peek through
Rectangular is the hotel room I entered angrily
Now rectangular is the wooden box
Where lies my love neath the golden phlox
They say he died from the chicken pox
In part I must agree, one chick too many had he
Triangular is the piece of pie
I eat to ease my sorrow
Triangular is the hatchet blade
I plan to hide tomorrow
Triangular the relationship
That now has ceased to be
And the self same shape is the garment thin
That fastens on with a safety pin
To a prize I had no wish to win
It's a lasting memory that my true love gave to me
Writer(s): Sheldon Harnick Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com