What won't a husband do? |
Dashing to the store, My face gone greenish-gray My windows were all rolled down 'cause a skunk got in the way Hell on wheels I sprang Ignoring flashing lights I roared into the parking lot Just missing a cat fight Oh, horrid smell, reeking smell Burning all the way I used to think it fun to drive With the top down night and day Horrid smell, rotting smell My wife is going to pay, Making me go out tonight For the “perfect” serving tray Into the store I strode Barraged by sound and sight Soon I was hiding from The sister of my bride Her horse-face drawn and blank On her hip she tote a tot He wheezed and coughed and stank Spreading the cold that he had caught. Oh, this is swell, a woman fell Fighting over a blouse Oh, how could on this blissful night A sane man leave his house I heard the knell of a blue-light sale Women swooned and swayed Oh, I swam against the tide To find a Santa-shaped tray What the hell, it's not on sale I bought it anyway 'Cause my wife's wrath I can't abide So full price I had to pay Horrid smell, stinking smell Reeking all the way Oh, what fun it is to ride In a top-down, motorized sleigh. |