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Now I've been married about six months, |
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Only six months you see, |
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The first three months, was all OK, |
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But the last three is killin' me, |
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My wife began her hissin', cut down on her kissin', |
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And then she failed to shine my shoes, |
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My shirts they came up wrinkled, |
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My pants with dirt were sprinkled, |
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And then I took the first year blues. |
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Well then she started naggin', |
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She left the sink a'saggin', |
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With dishes piled up high, |
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No food upon the table, she said if she was able, |
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She'd cook something bye and bye, |
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Then I began to wonder, if I had made a blunder, |
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When I said I do, she must have read my thinkin', |
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Her eyes began to blinkin' and that gal broke into. |
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Well I heard the dishes crashin', |
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And I began to dashin', gettin' out of sight, |
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For right there was my honey, |
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On who I'd spent my money, turnin' into dynamite, |
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Then after she'd exploded, her meanness all unloaded, |
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And things began to simmer down, |
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I found myself a'bleedin', and very much a'needin', |
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Of stitches taken all around. |
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Well then she started cryin', I felt myself a'sighin', |
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And then I took her in my arms, |
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I was afraid to scold her, so I just gently told her, |
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She didn't do a bit of harm, |
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Now the first six months is over, and I am much the older, |
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And experienced with a wife, |
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If I can stand the next six, my friends all say I'll be fixed, |
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To take it the rest of my life. |
