I'm about to sing a little song to let blokes know what's what
I reckon when I'm finished all the sorts will want me shot
I'm going to tell all single blokes some things I know are true
If any sort can prove I'm wrong I'll leave it up to you
Why do I love women people often ask
Sometimes I don't know myself, it becomes a task
They never seem to be on time, they are always late
They think of nothing but themselves and allowed to make you wait
And if you have an argument, boy how they talk you down
They are born with the knack of twisting truth around
And if they don't get their own way they roll their eyes somehow
And then they make a groaning noise just like a dying cow
Their middle name is Trouble, you meet one at a dance
What happens when you take her home, a good kick in the pants
Their tongues are always wagging, but they are cunning too
They let you think you're catching
Them, all the time they're catching you
They're just like a gramophone that you never have to wind
And the switch to shut them off you can never find
But I love them just the same, that's my one weak point
But I hope some day I'll find a dame whose tongue is out of joint
They're all the same the highbrow types, the ones from in the slums
In your ears they act like mad, boy do they bash the drums
And if you marry one of them, here's the way it goes
A ring goes on her finger and a ring goes in your nose
Then maybe there's a baby, a lovely little mite
But it's no fun changing baby in the middle of the night
When your missus lies in bed and snores as you attend the kid
She wouldn't think of getting up, you'd drop dead if she did
They say that slaves exist no more, they've all been freed, but still
There's many a poor and helpless man whose a slave to a woman's will
And that my friends winds up this song, I'd like to take a bow
But there's some sheilas after me so I'll have to shoot through now