I suppose the menopause misery women have to suffer replaces the
P M T misery that men have had to suffer at the hands of women,
as in the Martin Nesbitt song the P M T RAP.

I got married to a woman with a real bad monthly temper
She rants and she raves, from January to December
I asked her once "Whats wrong with you,why do you always start on
me"?
She curled her lip and snarled, and she said P M T

Shes a mean and wicked woman with a sharp and vicious tounge
That bloodshot glazed look in her eye, tells me its time to run
And if I try to calm her down, its a total waste of time
She turns into a female Tyson, a real life Frankenstein.

Chorus
Yelling and screaming and throwing things around
Pots and clocks and furniture, broken on the ground
Banging and crashing, her face a twisted scowl
and when she turns to pick on me, do not hang around
cos I run, and I hide, cos I get scared, shes bloody wild

A month ago on monday, she hit me with a brick
I spent a week in hospital and three weeks on the sick
I thought that I might change her if I threatened I would leave her
She kicked my leg and bit me and chased me with a cleaver
(and she was)
Chorus

I admit she has her good points, in fact she has a few
and if you get to meet her, maybe you might like her too
Be careful what you say to her, in case you might upset her
Im told that by late middle age, the change will make things better
And if you get to meet her, don't you tell her what I said
For you can guarantee one fine day, I will wake up dead
And standing by my body with blood dripping from a knife
Will be that snarling monthly pain, my P M T life of a wife.
(and she'll be)
Chorus