I ought to do the housework naked
Seems it’s just for his entertainment
Humping me every time I bend o’er
To pick his socks up off the floor.
Cupid’s arrow seems to strike
The minute I pick up a knife
Perfumed in onion’s fragrant reek
Passionate embraces he does seek
Nothing like domestic bliss
To inspire a French kiss
I’ve got a pan of sizzling bacon,
--No, I don’t have a shorter apron.