| Now I’ve been married about six months
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| Only six months you see
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| The first three months was all okay
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| The last three is killin' me My wife began to hissin', she cut down on her kissin'
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| And then she failed to shine my shoes
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| My shirts became wrinkled
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| My pants with dirt were sprinkled and I took the first year blues
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| Well then she started naggin'
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| She left the sink a’saggin' with dishes piled up high
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| No food upon the table, she said, «If I get able
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| I cook something bye and bye»
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| Then I began to wonder, if I had made a blunder
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| When I said, «I do»
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| She must have read my thinkin'
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| Her eyes began to blinkin' and that gal broke in two
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| Well I heard the dishes crashin'
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| And I began to dashin', gettin' out of sight
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| For right there was my honey
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| On who I’d spent my money, turnin' into dynamite
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| Then after she’d exploded, her meanness all unloaded
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| And things began to simmer down
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| I found myself a’bleedin' and very much a’needin'
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| Of stitches taken all around
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| Well then she started cryin'
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| I felt myself a’sighin' and then I took her in my arms
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| I was afraid to scold her, so I just gently told her
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| She didn’t do a bit of harm
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| Now the first six months is over and I am much the older
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| And experienced with a wife
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| If I can take the next six, my friends all say I’ll be fixed
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| To take it the rest of my life |