Lyrics:

Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit
It was now mid-August which meant that he had been separated from Marsha for more than two months
Two months, and all he had to show were three dog-eared letters and two very expensive long-distance phone calls
True, when school had ended and she'd returned to Wisconsin and he to Locust, Pennsylvania, she had sworn to maintain a certain fidelity
She would date occasionally, but merely as amusement
She would remain faithful

But lately Waldo had begun to worry
He had trouble sleeping at night and when he did he had horrible dreams
He lay awake at night, tossing and turning underneath his pleated quilt protector, tears welling in his eyes as he pictured Marsha, her sworn vows overcome by liquor and the smooth soothings of some Neanderthal, finally submitting to the final caresses of sexual oblivion
It was more than the human mind could bear

Visions of Marsha's faithlessness haunted him
Daytime fantasies of sexual abandon permeated his thoughts
And the thing was, they wouldn't understand how she really was
He, Waldo, alone, understood this
He had intuitively grasped every nook and cranny of her psyche
He'd made her smile
She needed him and he wasn't there (Awww)

The idea came to him on the Thursday before the Mummers Parade was scheduled to appear
He'd just finished mowing and edging the Edelsons lawn for a dollar-fifty and had checked the mailbox to see if there was at least a word from Marsha
There was nothing but a circular form the Amalgamated Aluminum Company of America inquiring into his awning needs
At least they cared enough to write

It was a New York company
You could go anywhere in the mails
Then it struck him, he didn't have enough money to go to Wisconsin in the accepted fashion
True, but why not mail himself?
It was absurdly simple
He would ship himself parcel post special delivery

The next day Waldo went to the supermarket to purchase the necessary equipment
He bought masking tape, a staple gun and a medium sized cardboard box, just right for a person of his build
He judged that with a minimum of jostling he could ride quite comfortably
A few air holes, some water and various midnight snacks, and it would probably be as good as going tourist

By Friday afternoon, Waldo was set
He was thoroughly packed and the post office had agreed to pick him up at three o'clock
He'd marked the package 'Fragile' and as he sat curled up inside, resting in the foam rubber cushioning he'd thoughtfully included, he tried to picture the look of awe and happiness on Marsha's face as she opened her door, saw the package, tipped the deliverer, and then opened it to see her Waldo finally there in person
She would kiss him, and then maybe they could see a movie
If he'd only thought of this before
Suddenly rough hands gripped his package and he felt himself borne up
He landed with a thud in a truck and then he was off

Marsha Bronson had just finished setting her hair
It had been a very rough weekend
She had to remember not to drink like that
Bill had been nice about it though
After it was over he'd said that he still respected her and, after all, it was certainly the way of nature and even though no, he didn't love her, he did feel an affection for her
And after all, they were grown adults
Oh, what Bill could teach Waldo
But that seemed many years ago

Sheila Klein, her very, very best friend, walked in through the porch screen door and into the kitchen
'Oh God, it's absolutely maudlin outside'
'Ugh, I know what you mean
I feel all icky'
Marsha tightened the belt on her cotton robe with the silk outer edge

Sheila ran her finger over some salt grains on the kitchen table, licked her finger and made a face
'I'm supposed to be taking these salt pills, but,' she wrinkled her nose, 'they make me feel like throwing up'

Marsha started to pat herself under the chin, an exercise she'd seen on television
'God, don't even talk about that'
She got up from the table and went to the sink where she picked up a bottle of pink and blue vitamins
'Want one? Supposed to be better than steak,' and attempted to touch her knees
'I don't think I'll ever touch a daiquiri again'
She gave up and sat down, this time nearer the small table that supported the telephone
'Maybe Bill'll call,' she said to Sheila's glance

Sheila nibbled on a cuticle
'After last night, I thought maybe you'd be through with him'

'I know what you mean
My God, he was like an octopus
Hands all over the place,' she gestured, raising her arms upward in defense
'The thing is after a while you get tired of fighting with him you know, and after all he didn't really do anything Friday and Saturday so I kind of owed it to him
You know what I mean'
She started to scratch

Sheila was giggling with her hand over her mouth
'I'll tell you, I felt the same way, and even after a while,' here she bent forward in a whisper
'I wanted to,' and now she was laughing very loudly

It was at this point that Mr. Jameson of the Clarence Darrow Post Office rang the door bell of the large stucco colored frame house
When Marsha Bronson opened the door, he helped her carry the package in
He had his yellow and his green slips of paper signed and left with a fifteen-cent tip that Marsha had gotten out of her mothers small beige pocket book in the den

'What do you think it is?' Sheila asked

Marsha stood with her arms folded behind her back
She stared at the brown cardboard carton that sat in the middle of the living room
'I don't know'

Inside the package Waldo quivered with excitement as he listened to the muffled voices
Sheila ran her fingernail over the masking tape that ran down the center of the carton
'Why don't you look at the return address and see who it is from?'
Waldo felt his heart beating
He could feel the vibrating footsteps
It would be soon

Marsha walked around the carton and read the ink-scratched label
'Ugh, God, it's from Waldo'
'That schmuck,' said Sheila
Waldo trembled with expectation

'Well, you might as well open it,' said Sheila, and both of them tried to lift the stapled flap
'Ah, shit,' said Marsha groaning
'He must have nailed it shut'
They tugged on the flap again
'My God, you need a power drill to get this thing opened'
They pulled again
'You can't get a grip'
They both stood still, breathing heavily
'Why don't you get the scissors?' said Sheila

Marsha ran into the kitchen, but all she could find was a little sewing scissor
Then she remembered that her father kept a collection of tools in the basement
She ran downstairs and when she came back up she had a large sheet-metal cutter in her hand
'This is the best I could find'
She was very out of breath
'Here, you do it, I am gonna die'
She sank into a large fluffy couch and exhaled noisily

Sheila tried to make a slit between the masking tape and the end of the cardboard flap, but the blade was too big and there wasn't enough room
'God damn this thing,' she said feeling very exasperated
Then, smiling, 'I got an idea'

'What?' said Marsha

'Just watch,' said Sheila touching her finger to her head

Inside the package, Waldo was so transfixed with excitement that he could barely breathe
His skin felt prickly from the heat and he could feel his heart beating in his throat
It would be soon

Sheila stood quite upright and walked around to the other side of the package
Then she sank down to her knees, grasped the cutter by both handles, took a deep breath and plunged the long blade through the middle of the package, through the middle of the masking tape, through the cardboard, through the cushioning and right through the center of Waldo Jeffers head, which split slightly and caused little rhythmic arcs of red to pulsate gently in the morning sun