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Miserable Mrs. Green sit by yourself and think awhile Of all that once could have been instead of what is now Well how does it even feel, you're no longer Madame Butterfly And yesterdays operas have quickly passed you by Mrs. Green, you're older But you're really no more cleaver Things that you were thinking I am thinking I will never think at all Volumes of photographs held in your Eisenhower hands Newer world intellect could never understand You tore yourself apart all for the neighborhood and kids And never forgave yourself for acting as you did Mrs. Green, you're older But you're really no more cleaver Things that you were thinking I am thinking I will never think at all Where is your family and why did they lock you up inside And what will they talk about after you have died Who scared the birds away by lining the nest with demands And using an iron first but not a helping hand Mrs. Green, you're older But you're really no more cleaver Things that you were thinking I am thinking I will never Mrs. Green I know You're not as happy as you can be As you watch my next leaf turn You're turning green with envy over me