~~~ Naggin' Bloody Women ~~~

Naggin' bloody women, fair dinkum mate,
I'll tell ya' flamin' straight.
They're on ya' back from dawn till dusk,
'Cos it's really you they hate.

They complain about what ya' wear,
And the way ya' dress and comb ya' hair.
And ya' need a shave they bloody rave,
It's more than a man can bear.

They say, "Chop that wood and mow the lawn,"
It gets on ya flamin' goat.
And if a man complains they scream in pain,
Like their throats been flamin' cut.

And when a man gets home from work,
All tired to the bone.
And ya' try to speak but all ya' get
Is, "Shut-up! Me mothers on the phone."

And then she says, "Mum's comin' 'round,
To stay with us next week."
"So shut ya trap, behave ya 'self,
And think before ya' speak."

And when the old bag comes to stay,
All she does is run ya' down.
And nags ya' like, the bloody wife,
And treats ya' like a clown.

So ya' do ya' block and shout at her,
And tell her, to shut her trap,
'Cos if she don't you'll turf her out
And you'll give her nose a tap.

Then ya' naggin' wife she does her quince,
And it's water-works every where.
And she tells ya' you're a flamin' mug,
And she's getting out of there.

So you do your quince, and yell at her,
And tell her to take her mother and go.
And to bugger off, and don't come back,
Until, the sun begins to snow.

October 17, 1999