I get up on Sunday, about eight-fifteen Just to get the paper that I never read 'Cause I know she'll be there, barely in her robe Sittin' on her front porch paintin' on her toes Her husband's always on the road Chorus: Hey, Mrs. Steven Rudy You don't know what you do to me Every night I dream one day of being with you Hey, Mrs. Steven Rudy You're the neighborhood beauty And that wedding ring's as ugly as your husband is to you Sometimes Mrs. Rudy calls cryin' late at night 'Cause her and Mr. Ugly have had another fight We talk a while and I hear her smile When she says thank you, I tell her that she's welcome Like any friend would do, I only wish she knew Chorus Imagination, infatuation I'm what she deserves I wonder if she thinks about me The way I think about her Chorus Chorus Hey Oh, Mrs. Rudy That wedding ring's as ugly to me As your husband is to you Mrs. Rudy You don't know, you don't know what you do To me