Little Boxes, All the Same

We sing . . . Little boxes on the hillsideLittle boxes made of ticky tackyLittle boxes, little boxes, little boxesAll the same.(I then pause to ask, "Are they all the same? Someone always answers, "No, they're different colors.")(That's right!) There's a green one . . .And a pink one . . .And a blue one . . .And a yellow one.And they're all made out of ticky tackyAnd they all look just the same.And the people in their housesAll go to the university . . .And the all get put in boxesLittle boxes, all the same.And there's doctors, and lawyersAnd business executivesAnd they're all made out of ticky tackyAnd they all look just the same.(Someone usually calls out, "They do all look the same! or "They're all red!")And they all play on the golf courseAnd drink their martinis dry . . .And the they all have pretty childrenAnd the children go to school.Then the children go to summer campAnd then to the university . . .And they all get put in boxes . . .And they all come out the same.And they all…