I'm the High-Grader from Hades   
You might say I am choosey   
I ransack my husbands' buckets   
And toss out all his doosies.   

I throw out rocks both big and small   
Size isn't the real issue   
And when his cheeks are streaked with tears   
I hand him a dry tissue.   

I'm the High-Grader from Hades   
How could he really choose   
A rock that has no sparkle   
No splash of greens or blues?   

I asked him why he even stooped   
To pick up this grey blob   
But I couldn't hear his answer   
Through the sniveling and the sobs.   

I'm the High-Grader from Hades   
To him it's all too real   
I throw his rocks both far and wide   
And do it with such zeal.   

What made him want to take this home?   
It has no crystal faces   
There is no iridescence   
And it's broken in three places.   

I'm the High-Grader from Hades   
I won't let him bring home   
A "yard rock" that's so very big   
It takes up two time zones.   

I know that there's a reason   
Why he had to have this shale   
If he splits it open enough times   
Inside he'll find a whale.   

I'm the High-Grader from Hades   
Of this we both are certain   
But he thanks me in the morning   
When his back and legs aren't hurtin'.   

It's not that I am vicious   
It's not that I'm a louse   
It's just that we've run out of room   
In our three story house.