| Well, I’ve been a strong-willed son of a gun
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| Ever since I was suckin' my thumb
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| But push came to shove
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| When I fell in love with my baby
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| Yeah, my baby
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| Well, you could say she’s over bearin'
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| In fact, she picked out the clothes that I’m wearin'
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| And I can’t go fishin'
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| Without her permission, but I ain’t complainin'
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| We got an arrangement
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| She can wear the pants, she can run the show
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| She can crack a whip like Indiana Jones
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| She can rule the roost, she can snap and holler
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| She can wear the pants as long as I can take 'em off her
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| Long as I can take 'em off her
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| She calls the shots, gives the orders, makes the plans
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| That woman’s wish is my command
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| Yeah, I’m telling you
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| I’ve got more honey-do's than a fruit truck on 40
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| But I’ll get 'em done shortly
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| She can wear the pants, she can run the show
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| She can crack a whip like Indiana Jones
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| She can rule the roost, she can snap and holler
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| She can wear the pants as long as I can take 'em off her
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| Well, she can push me around
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| But when the sun goes down
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| Look out, there’s a new sheriff in town
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| Well, I get a whole lot of flak from the fellas
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| But I reckon that they’re just jealous
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| She can wear the pants, she can run the show
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| She can crack a whip like Indiana Jones
|
| She can rule the roost, she can snap and holler
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| She can wear the pants as long as I can take 'em off her
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| Long as I can take 'em off her
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| Yeah, long as I can take 'em off her
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| Long as I can take 'em off her |