The Land of Sandra Dee

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Long ago and far away,
In a land that time forgot,

Before the days of Dylan
Or the dawn of Camelot.

There lived a race of innocents,
And they were you and me,
Long ago and far away
In the Land of Sandra Dee .


Oh, there was truth and goodness
In that land where we were born,
Where navels were for oranges,
And Peyton Place was porn.

For Ike was in the White House,
And Hoss was on TV,
And God was in his heaven
In the Land of Sandra Dee .

We learned to gut a muffler,
We washed our hair at dawn,
We spread our crinolines to dry
In circles on the lawn.

And they could hear us coming
All the way to Tennessee ,
All starched and sprayed and rumbling
in the Land of Sandra Dee .
 

We longed for love and romance,
And
listened to the King,
And Eddie Fisher married Liz,
And no one's seen him since.

We danced to "Little Darlin'",
And Sang to "Stagger Lee"
And cried for Buddy Holly
In the Land of Sandra Dee .

Only girls wore earrings then,
And three was one too many,
And only boys wore flat-top cuts,
Except for Jean McKinney.

And only in our wildest dreams
Did we expect to see
A boy named George with Lipstick
In the Land of Sandra Dee .

We fell for Frankie Avalon,
Annette
was oh, so nice,
And when they made a movie,
They never made it twice.

Miss Kitty had a heart of gold,
And Chester had a limp,
And Reagan was a Democrat
Whose co-star was a chimp.

We had our share of heroes,
We never thought they'd go,
At least not Bobby Darin,
Or Marilyn Monroe.

For youth was still eternal,
And life was yet to be,
And Elvis was forever,
In the Land of Sandra Dee .

We'd never seen the rock band
That was Grateful to be Dead,
And Airplanes weren't named Jefferson ,
And Zeppelins weren't Led.

And Beatles lived in gardens then,
And Monkees in a tree,
Madonna was a virgin
In the Land of Sandra Dee .

We'd never heard of
microwaves,
Or telephones in cars,
And babies might be bottle-fed,
But they weren't grown in jars.

And pumping iron got wrinkles out,
And "gay" meant fancy-free,
And dorms were never coed
,
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

We hadn't seen enough of jets
To talk about the lag,
And microchips were what was left
,
At the bottom of the bag.

And hardware was a box of nails,
And bytes came from a flea,
And rocket ships were fiction
,
In the Land of Sandra Dee .

Buicks came with portholes,
And side show came with freaks,
And bathing suits came big enough
,
To cover both your cheeks.


There was no patterned pantyhose
Or Lipton herbal tea
Or prime-time ads for condoms
,
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

 

And middle-aged was thirty-five,
And old was forty-three,
And ancient were our parents
,
In the Land of Sandra Dee.

So now we face a brave new world
In slightly larger jeans,
And wonder why they're using
,
Smaller print in magazines.

And we tell our children's children,
of the way it used to be,
Long ago and far away
,
In the Land of Sandra Dee. 

 

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