I call the justice of the peace
But don't tell him our names
Don't put out a press release
Or mention baseball games

I book the nearest
Bridal suite one room
Will suit us fine
For the desk clerk that we meet
The only autograph
We'll sign is...

Mr. and Mrs. Smith
Simply the folks next door
People without a single clue what
An agent or grip is for
Nothing can beat the view when as far
As the eye can see
There's no one but Mrs.
No one but Mr.
Smith and me

For a home the man provides that cottage
Built for two
We'll check the small town classifieds
Variety won't do

Then we'll move
To main street, U.S.A.
And sign the deed of trust
The mailbox at our hideaway
Will tell the whole wide world
That we're just

Mr. and Mrs. Smith
Merely the folks next door
People who use
Their kitchen each night who've
Never been in toots shor

Yeah nothing can beat the view
For as far as the eye can see
There's no one but Mrs.
No one but Mr.
Smith and me

No early calls
No big premieres
No lush romantic theme
We'll spend the nights making our own
Little league baseball team...

We're no one you've ever seen
Movie stars don't live anywhere here
Except on the localdrive-in screen
Yes, I'd gladly disappear
If it might guarantee a view of
No one but Mr.
No one but Mrs.
Smith and you



Por: Luciano Volpe