| Every night when I go home | 
| I settle down to prime-time limbo | 
| When all the boys are gathered around | 
| Shoutin' «Ita's on TV» | 
| And though the roaches are thick on the ground | 
| Somebody goes to close our window | 
| Keep the noise of the city down | 
| Get a dose of integrity | 
| Every week, in every home | 
| She’s got wholesome news for the family | 
| I believe, I believe, in what she says | 
| Yes I do | 
| I believe, I believe, at the end of the day | 
| Her magazine’ll get me through | 
| Ita’s tongue never touches her lips | 
| She could always be my godmother | 
| And though the desktop hides her hips | 
| My imagination’s strong | 
| She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen | 
| I’d like to take her out to dinner | 
| But when I think about the places I’ve been | 
| I’d probably hold my fork all wrong | 
| Every day and every night | 
| She’s the only one we can depend upon | 
| I believe, I believe, in what she says | 
| Yes I do | 
| I believe, I believe, at the end of the day | 
| Her magazine’ll get me through | 
| To every housewife through the land | 
| There is no-one else they can depend upon | 
| How could I not believe what Ita tells me to | 
| Every day and every night | 
| She’s the only one we can depend upon | 
| How could I not believe what Ita tells me to | 
| How could I not believe what Ita tells me to | 
| How could I not believe what Ita tells me to | 
| How could I not believe what Ita tells me to | 
| Yes it’s true, what Ita tells me to |