The blatant male-bashing of the preceding song so dismayed me that I felt compelled to compose the following rebuttal.


DON'T GET MARRIED, BOYS

Don't get married, boys, you'll be a slave for life
All the wages that you sweat for, you must give them to your wife
Get a spaniel, get a fast car, get a mistress, get the clap
But don't get married, boys, for marriage is a trap

In her wedding vows she swore to love you, sickness and in health
But you'll all too soon discover what she really wants is wealth
And she'll prod you and she'll nag you, get a job for better pay
Then she's crying and complaining you spend too much time away

Oh she never went to college and she never earned the bread
But she doesn't have to worry, she can get divorced instead
All she needs is an attorney, and it goes from bad to worse
And the next time that you look, well, half of what you had is hers

So don't get married, boys, she'll throw you to the hounds
Well you wed a slender beauty, now she weighs three hundred pounds
Be a monk or be a swinger, be a sailor, play punk rock
But don't get married, boys, for marriage is a crock
Be a choirboy or a faggot, be a sorcerer, date a witch
But don't get married, boys, for marriage is a… whole lot of trouble

While you're building your career the little woman just gets bored
And she'll leave you there with nothing but the dreams you can't afford


Cheers,
Michael