| I have always been a woman who arranges things
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| For the pleasure and the profit it derives
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| I have always been a woman who arranges things
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| Like furniture and daffodils and lives
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| When a man with a timid tongue
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| Meets a girl with a diffident air
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| Why should the tortured creatures beat around the bush
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| When heaven knows mother nature always needs a little push
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| So I put my hand in here
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| I put my hand in there
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| And a girl over 6 foot 3
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| Loves a man who comes up to her ear
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| Surely it’s obvious she’ll never be seduced
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| 'Til some kind soul condescends
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| To give her beau a little boost
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| So I put my hand in there
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| I put my hand in here
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| I have always been a woman who arranges things
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| It’s my duty to assist the Lord above
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| I have always been a woman who arranges things
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| Like luncheon parties, poker games, and love
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| My aplomb at cosmetic art
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| Turned a frump to a trump lady fair
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| She had a countenance a little bit like scrooge
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| But oh today you would swear the Lord himself applied the rouge
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| When I put my hand in here
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| I put my hand in there! |
| I put my hand in here
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| I twist a little, stir a little
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| Him a little, her a little
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| Shape a little, mold a little
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| Some poor chap gets sold a little
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| When I use my fist a little
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| Some young bride gets kissed a little
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| Pressure with the thumbs
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| Matrimony comes
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| When, I put my hand in there…
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| For when my little pink wiggles
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| Some young maiden gets the giggles
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| Then I make my knuckles active
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| «My» he says «She's so attractive.»
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| Then I move my index digit
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| And they both begin to fidget
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| Then I clench my palm
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| The preacher reads a psalm
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| When I put my hand in there! |