Song of a Married Lady or Tragedy of married men
Song of a Married Lady
Tragedy of married men
He didn't like the curry
And he didn't like my cake.
He said my biscuits were too hard...
Not like his mother used to make.
I didn't prepare the coffee right
He didn't like the stew,
I didn't mend his socks
The way his mother used to do.
I pondered for an answer
I was looking for a clue.
Isn't there anything I could do
To match his mother's shoe
Then I smiled as I saw light
One thing I could definitely do
I turned around and slapped him tight...
Like his mother used to!