My loving husband gave me this dire warning.
He would divorce me first thing in the morning.

"Why, dear, what is the matter, "I quickly replied.
"I'm sick of that darn radio, I am fit to be tied.

Pyramids, Bermuda Triangles, Saucer and all,
Psychics, Occultists and assorted screwball.

Warlocks and preachers, plus a hit man or two.
I've listen so long that my ears are turned blue.

Enough already, or you won't be happy or glad.
When your darn old radio has driven me mad.

When your Prince Charming has turned into a toad.
And flush  that darn radio down our commode."