From the fifties. Here are the lyrics — see if you remember the tune:
I gave a letter to the postman,
he put it his sack.
Bright in early next morning,
he brought my letter back.
She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.
We had a quarrel, a lover's spat
I write I'm sorry but my letter keeps coming back.
So then I dropped it in the mailbox
And sent it special D.
Bright in early next morning
it came right back to me.
She wrote upon it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such number, no such zone.
This time I'm gonna take it myself
and put it right in her hand.
And if it comes back the very next day
then I'll understand
The writing on it:
Return to sender, address unknown.
No such person, no such zone.
Ah, yes. A golden oldie!
Well, somehow that song got into an endless loop going round and round in my head. Then I wondered if I could change the lyrics, but keep them similar enough that the original melody would still work and remind the "hearer" of Elvis' song.
Here's what I came up with. This is for all the ladies out there struggling to lose pounds. And don't be offended; it's a parody!
The Anorexic’s Boyfriend’s Lament
(With apologies to Elvis)
I got a picture from my girl friend,
Her dress looked like a sack!
She was as skinny as a rail bird
So I sent her picture back.
I wrote upon it:
Return, too slender! Dress size unknown!
You got no figure, no meat on those bones.
I like ‘em healthy, plus-sized and stacked!
She was always skinny but she thought that she looked fat.
She wrote to tell me she was sorry,
She’d lost the weight for me.
She even sent another picture,
But I sent it back, special D.
(With apologies to Elvis)
I got a picture from my girl friend,
Her dress looked like a sack!
She was as skinny as a rail bird
So I sent her picture back.
I wrote upon it:
Return, too slender! Dress size unknown!
You got no figure, no meat on those bones.
I like ‘em healthy, plus-sized and stacked!
She was always skinny but she thought that she looked fat.
She wrote to tell me she was sorry,
She’d lost the weight for me.
She even sent another picture,
But I sent it back, special D.
I wrote upon it:
Return, too slender! Dress size unknown!
You got no figure, no meat on those bones.
Next time I’m gonna pick one myself
And tell her ‘fore I ask for her hand
That if I find out she wants to get thin,
She’d better understand;
I’m gonna say:
Return, too slender! Dress size unknown.
No girlish figure, no meat on those bones!
Ah, return, too slender.
Return, too slender.
Return, too slender.
