When it comes to my husband and me, he's the music and I'm the lyrics. He loves a great guitar riff and the poet in me loves to weep over lyrics (or roll my eyes at them....hey, party rap); regardless, his lack of interest in lyrics is reflected in his singing.
Last night, while cleaning up the dinner dishes, I caught him singing:
"She's my best dressed girl, and she used to be fine...."
Ric Ocasek would not be pleased.
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