SS: These are the good years for Jim and me. Summer came on so fast that I haven't paid much attention to our yard which now has gotten out of control and the dandelions and quack grass are about three feet high and I can feel the eyes of our neighbors on me, and they're thinking, "You ought to be shot. You are the reason we can't sell our house. We are starting to believe in arson." And that's why I thought we ought to go to church. Our neighbors who want to shoot us are all Christians, so they'll lay off if they think we're Christians too ----- right?
TR: I haven't been to church in 30 years, Barb. I'm not going to start now.
SS: Jim, it's either church or else we buy some sheep.
TR: Too many painful memories. That Easter service thirty years ago. I was the baritone soloist and I was supposed to sing "I Love To Tell The Story Of Jesus And His Love" and instead I sang "That's Amore".
SS: It was a simple mistake.
TR: I stood up in front of 400 Methodists and I sang about the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's Amore. And I haven't been back since.
SS: It was years ago, Jim.
TR: It feels like 5 minutes ago.
SS: Nobody remembers.
TR: Everybody remembers, Barb. That's what church people are for. They live for my shame. They feed on it like carrion.
SS: Jim, maybe you just need some ketchup.
TR: Ketchup, Barb?
SS: That's right Jim, ketchup. Ketchup contains natural mellowing agents that help you put shame in perspective. Shame is a little thing, life is a big thing.
TR: As big as a pizza pie?
SS: Even bigger. Come on Jim. Let's go downstairs and have some ketchup.
Summer is a good time
We're feeling warm and mellow
All our friends and neighbors
Have dropped by to say hello
Life is flowing
Like ketchup on your jello
GK: Ketchup, for the good times.
RD (SINGS): Ketchup, ketchup.