I’ve got this romantic feeling today.
I guess it’s not so much today but more like right now,
‘Cause I definitely didn’t have it earlier when I scooted on into the Post Office.
There was this line waiting to be helped and everyone in it was being quiet
Until Yvonne, the girl who works behind the counter goes,
“Hey, Rockstar, whatcha doin’ today?”
It always feels weird whenever she says that,
Like I wish I could just fade into the background and not have people think
Whatever weird thoughts are bubbling around inside their bubblegum heads.

You know, if people did have bubblegum heads
It might be nice to get hair stuck in your mouth.
Or then Mike Tyson would have gotten a really yummy snack out of Evander Holyfield’s ear,
Or maybe then the expression would be “a quarter for your thoughts”
Instead of a penny,
‘Cause then you’d get a piece of bubble gum with someone’s idea inside the wrapper
Instead of a cheesy joke...
Nope, that’d only be if they had bubble gum MACHINE heads.
Now that would be really cool!

I wasn’t feeling all that cool in the post office,
But I also like it whenever Yvonne calls me rockstar.
It’s like being home, being known,
Cashing your checks at a bank
Where everyone who works there knows you and is glad to see you.
Now Rita, Monica, John and all the other people that work at my credit union make me feel like that.
“Hi, Peter!”
They always say with their big, bright, beautifully toothy smiles aimed at my cool, bubblegum machine head.
“We met your new roommate the other day. The one with red hair. Man, it’s really cool that he’s
from Missouri and came down here...”
Man, how do they know and remember so much about my life?
Is it like that with everyone?

I wonder how much privacy people get on submarines.
You’d probably get lots more on a battleship, or a carrier
Due to the open air, bigger rooms and all.
But I’ve always liked submarines, despite the privacy issues.
Maybe it’s because of the Beatles.
Maybe it’s because I’m really hyper and need the adult form of Ritalin, Stritera,
Or maybe it’s because of that old, Cary Grant movie
Where a bunch of guys get trapped below in a pink submarine with a bunch of girls,
And they have to shoot a bunch of bras out the torpedo
So the guys above know not to drop depth charges and blow ‘em all up.

I wish my heart could handle a whole dpth charge explosion.
I wish I could get all the power of bubblegum, alligators, fresh paint, dancing
And your beautiful face shoved into it.
That’s way more than all the world’s arsenal of nuclear weapons,
And it’d make me way more happy.
I’d have happy faces tattooed on my heart forever
With a little cubby room for you and me where we could play together.
Of course the inside of that cubby room would be too tiny for anyone else but us to fit into it
And bigger than the world, the stars, the whole, freakin’ universe!
It’d have custard shakes, jelly beans, aliens, pudding and flowers that taste as good as your lips.

I want you to kiss me right now and watch the universe of our hearts expand, explode,
Forget about privacy, enter intimacy,
Turn us into post office rockstars where all our checks get cashed and dreams come true
And home is always found in You.
See, I told you I was feeling romantic today.