Standard (EADGBE)

  Don't get married girl, You'll sign away your life

  You may start off as a woman, But you'll end up as the wife

  You could be a Vestal Virgin, Take the veil and be a nun

  But don't get married girl, For marraige isn't fun

  Oh it's fine when you're romancing, And he plays the lovers part

  You're the roses in his garden, You're the flame that warms his heart

  And his love will last forever, And he'll promise you the moon

  But just wait until you're wedded, Then he'll sing a different tune

  You're his tapioca pudding, You're the dumplings in his stew

  But he'll soon begin to wonder, What he ever saw in you

  Sure he takes without complaining, All the dishes you provide

  For you see he's got to have, His bit of jam tart, On the side

  So don't get married girls, It's very badly paid

  You may start off as the mistress, But you'll end up as the maid

  Be a daring deep sea diver, Be a polished polyglot

  But don't get married girls, For marriage is a plot

  Aarh you seen him in the morning, With a face that looks like death

  With dandruff on his pillow, And tobacco on his breath

  And he needs some reassurance, With his cup of tea in bed

  For he's worried by the mortgage, And the bald patch on his head

  And he's sure that you're his mother, Lays his head upon your breast

  So you try to boost his ego, Iron his shirt, And warm his vest

  Then you get him off to work, The mighty hunter is restored

  And he leaves you there with nothing, But the dreams you can't afford

  So don't get married girls, 'Cause men are all the same

  They'll just use you, When they want you, You'd do better on the game

  Be a call girl, Be a stripper, Be a hostess, Be a whore

  But don't get married girls, For marriage is a bore

  When he comes home in the evening, He can hardly spare a look

  All he says is ''What's for dinner?'', After all you're just the cook

  But when he takes you to a party, Where he eye's you with a frown

  For you know you've got to look your best, You mustn't let him down

  And he'll clutch you with that look,While 'ere's that twinkle in his eyes

  Like he's entered for a raffle, And he's won you for the prize

  Ahh but when the partys over, You'll be slogging through the sludge

  Half the time a decoration, The other half, A drudge

  So don't get married, It'll drive you round the bend

  It's a lane without a turning, It's the end without an end

  Take a lover every friday, Take up tennis, Be a nurse

  But don't get married girls, For marriage is a curse

  Then you get him off to work, The mighty hunter is restored

  And he leaves you there with nothing, But the dreams you can't afford