| In every living room
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| There stands an idle groom
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| While all the housework goes to pot
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| We wonder what this rascal’s got
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| Who makes our faithful women simply swoon
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| As off to work we go, this much at least we’ll know
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| This lover’s just a tea bag Romeo
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| Though we’re a faithful group
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| We cannot live on soup
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| The stuff they buy, it’s such a savings
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| Only multiplies their cravings
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| Cracker, soup, and other goop
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| (Schmidt noodles)
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| Don’t underestimate his power
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| He can sell the leaning tower
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| I ought to know, I’ve got two tons of flour
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| Our lives he complicates, our wives he confiscates
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| And if we ever disagree on anything he says to be
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| We’ll find the cold potato on our plates
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| (Schmidt-aught noodles)
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| Don’t take offense at what a-we've done
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| The little song’s just in fun
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| For after all we love the sun-of-a-gun |