I knew you guys could do it! I agree, Eric, this is definitely a period piece. I'll do an add when I'm more convinced we've settled on the lyrics. Here's my working draft from above:

Words by "Bagby/Davis © 1960
As sung by the Limeliters on Elektra EKL 180
Tune: Acres of Clams/Rosin the Beau

CHARLIE THE MIDNIGHT MARAUDER

He rose before dawn ev'ry mornin'
To dreamily fall into line,
And follow that bumper before him
To be on the job before nine.

His dream house of crumbling stucco
Was more like a nightmarish load;
His weekends were spent in hard labor.
He dug and he pruned and he mowed.

Charlie rose early each morning
To eagerly fall into line
And lift up the bumper before him
To be on the job before nine.

Charlie was raised in the city.
He scoffed at the suburban life.
'Till one day whilst dressed as a salesman,
Saturn bewitched and bewildered his wife.

He told her the pleasures of rural life
And barbecues under the trees,
And so for a mere thirty thousand
He purchased his dream house with ease.

'Till one night an electrical failure
Blacked out every light on his tract;
Our Charlie/hero drove up in confusion
But could not locate his new shack.

Each cracker box looked like the one before
As far as the eye could see;
He thought/mused to himself as he wondered
Oh, where in the hell could it be?

He searched until one looked familiar
And fitted his key in the lock;
To Charlie's relief the door opened
But poor Charlie was in for a shock.

He strode to the bed of his sleeping love,
Then kissed her and backed off in fright,
For the woman he kissed was a stranger
Who screamed and ran into the night.

They caught him a few minutes later,
Still quacking and shaking with fear,
They called him the "midnight marauder"
And they put him away for a year.

They put him away for a year-ear
They put him away for a year;
They called him the "midnight marauder"
And they put him away for a year.

When a salesman comes touting suburbia
He's doing it purely for pelf;
Just remember the story of Charlie,
And tell him to go there himself.

Yes, tell him to go there himsel-elf
Just tell him to go there himself;
Just remember the "midnight marauder"
And tell him to go there himself.

My secret plan, by the way, is to make a parody of this song so as to describe what our neighbor's cat is up to as he visits neighboring houses via the cat doors and scarfs up leftover goodies. But in order to start the parody I thought it would be common courtesy to review the original verses.

Cheerily,
Charley Noble