Lucy and Ricky were quite a pair,

with his thick Cuban accent and her red, curly hair.

Ricky worked at a nightclub and sang “Babalu,”

but Lucy wanted to be in show-business too.

He would not let her, said, “Stay home with the baby,”

but he couldn’t tell her what to do because she was a lady.

This was just the beginning of many of fights,

so a letter to her husband Mrs. Ricardo did write.

“Dear Ricky,” it started in her squabbly handwriting,

“I’m trying my hand in singing and songwriting.”

She packed up her bags, headed straight for the stage,

but before she was gone, she heard someone calling her name.

“It’s that sneaky old Cuban,” Lucy thought in her mind,

“The one that is selfish and cruel and unkind.”

“Dear Lucy,” he said, “I was terribly wrong,

let’s head to the Copa and practice our song.

I’ve decided to give you this sought-after part

because you are my wife, my lover, my heart.”

 

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