If you’re living your life with a jealous wife,
And you are under her spell,
When a minute late well your weekly fate,
Is twenty-four seven in hell.
You will never find, just one peace of mind,
Unless there’s a friendly bar,
Even then you’ll groan when you hear the phone…
She’ll be looking for where you are.
I’ve been accused and I’ve been abused,
For imaginary fun that I’ve had,
I am her pet hate, and she’ll denigrate
To the point of overly mad,
Her deep desire is to stoke the fire,
Declaring that I am a liar,
When she takes note of a hair on my coat,
Asserting me into the mire.
For she’ll cause a scene on where I have been,
And who was I cheating with?
So I got to the state, I’d retaliate…
Her thoughts are a terrible myth.
But even though, her conjecture will grow
Downgrading the lot of us men,
Then she will swear, when she can’t find a hair,
That I’m dating bald women again.