DON'T GET MARRIED, GIRLS by Leon Rosselson Don't get married girls you'll sign away your life You may start off as a woman but you'll end up as the wife You could be a vestal virgin take the veil or be a nun But don't get married girls for marriage isn't fun Oh it's great when you're romancing and he plays the lovers part You're the flowers in his garden you're the flame that warms his heart And his love will last forever and he'll promise you the moon But just wait until you're married and he'll sing a different tune You're his tapioca pudding, You're the dumplings in his stew But he'll soon begin to wonder what he ever saw in you Still he takes without complaining all the dishes you provide But you know he likes to have a little jam tart on the side So don't get married girls it's very badly paid You may start off as the mistress but you'll end up as the maid Be a daring deep sea diver be a polished polyglot But don't get married girls for marriage isn't hot Have you seen him in the morning with a face that looks like death With dandruff on his pillow and tobacco on his breath Still he needs some reassurance with his cup of tea in bed 'Cos he's worried 'bout the mortgage and the bald patch on his head And he thinks that you're his mother lays his head upon your breast So you try to boost his ego iron his shirt and warm his vest Then you get him off to work the mighty hunter is restored And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can't afford So don't get married girls men are all the same They'll just use you when they want you you'd be better on the game Be a call girl, be a stripper, be a hostess, be a whore But don't get married girls for marriage is a bore When he comes home in the evening he can hardly spare a look All he says is what's for dinner after all you're just the cook Then he takes you to a party and he eyes you with a frown And you know you've got to look your best you mustn't let him down And he'll fix you with that look and there's that twinkle in his eye Like he's entered in a raffle and he's won you for a prize But when the party's over you'll go slogging through the sludge Half the time a decoration and the other half a drudge So don't get married it'll drive you round the bend It's a lane without a turning it's the end without an end Take a lover every Friday, Take up tennis, be a nurse But don't get married girls for marriage is a curse For you get him off to work the mighty hunter is restored And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can't afford.
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