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Chef: If I could share my life with you
Just think how happy we'd be
We'd share our hovel built for two
Complete with vermin for three
We could while away each hopeless day
Comparing open sores
Yes, life would blow
But much less, though
If I could share mine with yours

Gwynne: No, I can't. It's impossible!
If I could share my life with you
Chef: Admit it, it would be nice
Gwynne: We'd share one cot, one chamber pot
Chef: Plus trench mouth, tapeworms, and lice
In the freezing night
We'd cuddle tight
And sip some rancid wine
Both: And life won't taste like human waste
If you could share yours with mine

Chef: We would have a dozen kids
Gwynne: And maybe one won't die
Chef: And the plague
Gwynne: The runs
Chef: Invading Huns
Both: Just think how time would fly

If you could share your life with me
I'll cherish every foul breath
Gwynne: The filth
Chef: The rot
Gwynne: The leprosy
Both: The painful, lingering death
Thank the Lord our life expectancy
Is merely thirty two
Chef: Yes, it would be sweet misery
If I could share it with you.

Gwynne: Yeah, it might be sweet misery
Both: To share what's left with you

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