'Ypocrisy, that's Woman. Yes, she's boss in that all right
A baby's born next door, an' in she'll pop to see the mite
"Oh, asn't it the sweetest nose" you'll 'ear 'er bawl
While all the time she can't see if it's got a nose at all
She'll say it's got its father's eyes or mother's anything
She'll declare its little profile's like Lord Nelson or the King.
Two days go by. The neighbours quarrel - such rows never cease
An' then she'll swear the kid's the living image of Charles Peace.

They're 'ypocrites in kissin', too - they'll kiss a man all right
But see 'em kiss each other - why it's very near a bite
Vexatiousness, that's Woman! My wife's mother came to stay
An' falls 'ead-first down stairs before she'd been with us a day
But wot annoyed me was, a jar o' beer was on the top
An' she fetches down with 'er when she does 'er bloomin' flop.
My wife yells, "Go an' fetch a doctor" Fetch a doctor! Bah
Does any doctor know the way ter mend a gallon jar?
  Assertiveness, that's Woman! An' it makes my 'eart fair ache
Ter see some married fellers at their wives' voice shake and quake
I'm master in my 'ome, I am. My wife daren't disagree
I rules the missis stern-like, with a rod of iron - that's me
I 'ates wimmin - Wimmin, sir, the sweetest things in life
Yes, man's best friend is Woman, sir! Good-night. Shhh! - 'ere's my wife!

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