Act 1. Mr. & Mrs. Smith

Call the Justice of the Peace
But don't tell him our names
Don't put out a press release
Or mention baseball games

Book the nearest Bridal suite
One room will suit us fine
For the desk clerk that we meet
The only autograph we'll sign is

Mr and Mrs Smith
Simply the folks next door

People without a single clue what
an Agent or Grip is for

Yes

Nothing can beat the view
When as far as the eye can see, there's

No one but Mrs

No one but Mr

Smith and Me

For a home the man provides
A cottage built for two
We'll check the small town classifieds
Variety won't do

Then we'll move to mainstream USA
And sign the deed of trust
The mailbox at our hideaway
Will tell the whole wide world that we're just

Mr and Mrs Smith
Merely the folks next door

People who use their kitchen each night

And never been in Toots Shor's

Yeah

Nothing can beat the view
For as far as the eye can see, there's

No one but Mr

No one but Mrs

Smith and Me

No early calls
No big premieres
No less romantic theme
We'll spend the nights
Making our own
Little league baseball team

We're no one you've ever seen

Movie stars don't live anywhere here
Except on the local drive-in screen

Yes
I'd gladly disappear
If it might guarantee a view of

No one but Mr

No one but Mrs

Smith and You