She know how to make me laugh when I'm unhappy

She can make my biggest worries seem so small

And when I get to feeling moody and discouraged

She just holds me close and I feel ten feet tall

I come home most every night to TV dinners

For she's really not the cook I know she'd like to be

Oh but a smile across the table says I love you

And I thank the Lord that she belongs to me



She likes to go around the house wearing blue jeans

Harry Roder's sneakers on her feet

And I catch her doing things she really shouldn't

Like playing baseball with the kids out in the street

When I call her on the phone just say I'm working late

She understands and waits up so patiently

And she welcomes me home to my private heaven

Oh and I thank the Lord that she belongs to me

Mhm I thank the Lord that she belongs to me