When we two were but little girls
    We'd pretend we were quite grown.
Parading about, mother's hat on our curls,
    with clacking heels and haughty frown.

We'd dream of a boy, handsome and good
    That we'd each meet someday.
And suddenly, overnight, our childhood
    It seemed, had flown away.

Then we did each find love and joy.
    The age-old, wondrous magic!
But I've just heard that you lost the boy...
    So you've planned a career. Ah, tragic?

Oh, no! In Manhattan's busy hive,
    Your life goes on... you're fine!
While, alas poor me, I'm buried alive.
    You see, I married mine!