Lyrics: Marc Shaiman/Scott Whittman
Music: Marc Shaiman
Call the Justice of the Peace,
But don't tell him our names,
Don't put out a press release,
Or mention baseball games.
Michael:
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,
Both:
Mr and Mrs smith,
Simply the folks next door,
Michael:
People without a single clue what
an Agent or Grip is for
Ivy:
Yes,
Both
Nothing can beat the view,
When as far as the eye can see, there's
Michael:
No one but Mrs,
Ivy
No one but Mr,
Both
Smith and Me.
Michael:
For a home the man provides,
A cottage built for two,
We'll check the small town classifieds,
Variety won't do.
Ivy:
Then we'll move to mainstream USA,
And sign the deed of trust,
The mailbox at our hideaway,
Will tell the whole wide world that we're just,
Both:
Mr and Mrs smith,
Merely the folks next door,
Michael:
People who use their kitchen each night,
Ivy:
And never been into chores,
Michael:
Yeah,
Both
Nothing can beat the view,
For as far as the eye can see, there's
Michael:
No one but Mrs,
Ivy:
No one but Mr,
Both:
Smith and Me.
Both:
No early calls,
No big premieres,
No less romantic theme,
We'll spend the nights,
Making our own,
Little league baseball team,
Both:
We're no one you've ever seen,
Ivy:
Movie stars don't live anywhere here,
Except on the local drive-in screen,
Both:
Yes,
I'd gladly disappear,
If it might guarantee a view of,
Michael:
No one but Mr,
Ivy:
No one but Mrs,
Both:
Smith and You.