(instrumental opening)

In a little while from now
she be onstage taking bow.
I promised myself
to admit to myself
that she'll never break her wedding vow.
It would be such a crime.
So she's starring in Sondheim:
"A Little Night Music."
But I'm still lovesick
and not over Ms. Lansbury.
Left feeling like a dope
with no hope of getting tickets.
I saw the price, it's just not nice
and none of my dates will pick it.
I may as well go on
to the theater all alone.
Ms. Jones again.
Naturally.

To think that only yesterday
she started up that play.
Looking forward, I
to a Broadway high
even though I'm quite far from gay.
But as if to knock me down
reality came around
and reminded me
of pathetic need
of 12 long years now and counting.
Leaving me to doubt
talk about goddess of acting.
For she exists, and I persist
but my heart and mind are cracking.
And in my hour of need
for do I write screed?
Ms. Jones again.
Naturally.

It seems to me that there are more songs
I did write for her
than even Lopez.
I must be hopeless.
What do I do?
What do I do?

(instrumental break)

Ms. Jones again.
Naturally.

And looking back over the years
with my heart still in arrears
I remember how I cried when she sanctified
her union with her old man dear.
And at 7 and 10 years old
their children, bless their souls
wouldn't understand
why this silly man
writes these songs about their mommy.
Leaving me to start
with a heart that struck by whommy.
Despite cries of "Move on" from folks
I still feel cold and clammy.
I should just walk away.
But I'd cry and cry all day!
Ms. Jones again!
Naturally!

Ms. Jones again!
Naturally.