She know how to make me laugh when I'm unhappy   She can make my biggest worries seem so small   And when I get to feeling moody and discouraged   She just holds me close and I feel ten feet tall   I come home most every night to TV dinners   For she's really not the cook I know she'd like to be   Oh but a smile across the table says I love you   And I thank the Lord that she belongs to me      She likes to go around the house wearing blue jeans   Harry Roder's sneakers on her feet   And I catch her doing things she really shouldn't   Like playing baseball with the kids out in the street   When I call her on the phone just say I'm working late   She understands and waits up so patiently   And she welcomes me home to my private heaven   Oh and I thank the Lord that she belongs to me   Mhm I thank the Lord that she belongs to me