A Story (feat. Pierre Henry)

I got a story,
A sad, sad story,
About a girl
Who met a boy,
About her mother,
Whose vision saw her
Daughter to marry
Another boy.
No! No! No!
They made a plan
To get away,
To run away,
And though it'd be hard
To make that day
Freely to live
Without the mother,
They'd send a postcard.
No! No! No!
Out on the interstate,
That's where they made their mistake.
That's where they met their fate,
Out on the interstate.
They met the monster,
The monster of the interstate,
Who will not hesitate,
Who eats teenagers like a shark eats little fishes,
Who eats bad kids disobeying parents' wishes;
An interloper against the elopers,
A troll at the pay-toll.
They stopped at the tollbooth and reached for a quarter.
The monster filled the whole booth, he gave them no quarter.
"Don't eat me!" chirped the girl, clutching to her purse.
"Don't eat me," croaked the boy, "Or eat her first!
I'll turn right around and take her back to her mother's."
"We repent of being out-of-wedlock lovers!"
"You should have thought of that before!"
And a scaly, horny hand ripped the car-locked door,
And the boy
Tried to drive,
But oh boy,
He was eaten alive,
And the girl
Tried to scream,
But she was swirled
In the giant's vanilla ice cream,
And the boy was yummy,
And the girl was yummy
As they slipped down the throat to the monster's yellow tummy.
He said: "Mm-mm, good! Didn't do like they should!
Mm-mm, good! Didn't do like they should!"
The mother sold the
Rights to the story.
It was so scary,
This gory story.
They made a movie,
A horror movie.
The mother made a million,
And the producers made a billion.
"And that other sweet boy that my daughter has shunned,
Now I'm his wife, and he's my husband.
Now I'm his wife, and he's my husband.
And that other sweet boy that my daughter has shunned,
Now I'm his wife, and he's my husband.
Now I'm his wife, and he's my husband."
(The moral of this story
Is clear for all to see,
And if clearly all can see,
Then it isn't clear to me.)