My Wife Is Mad
"Let me in!"
She's yanking at the door handle
On the passenger side as I perch in
The driving seat in our rusty dusty
Electric vehicle car
She's just emerged from the building
In eighty-eighty per cent steaminess
The door seems to be locked
She continues to heave and whisk
This portal into air conditioned
Ecstasy doesn't seem to wanna budge
The fail to dislodge and the muscle strain
Causes a face of badassery and hassle to emerge
A similar white coloured hooptie and
Same model parked in front of me
I beep my horn and she realises she's
Trying to get in the wrong car
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