Lyrics

I’ve growth accustomed to her voice.
She brightens every Tuesday morn.

With thoughtful commentary, or
witty thrusts and parries,

Her sighs, her moans,
Her grunts, her groans
Are second nature to me now,
From NASCAR to the Redskins.

I’m so grateful she’s a woman. I wish I was Springsteen.
Surely I could never sing like him again
And yet,

I've grown accustomed to her voice,
Accustomed to Liz Clarke,
The sweetheart of the show.