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In his father’s good name
He trusts, for things of life,
To win this wouthy dame,
To be his charming wife.His hands never work,
His mind, all ways blank,
Hardships of life he shirks,
Whining, Oh I can’t
Such a man–a nature freak,
worthless, short and slim,
This worthy woman will not stake
All she is, to him.
He acts, as if he’s smart,
The woman knows he’s poor,
Which lands him in a ditch,
Covered with a door.
With a kick, out he comes,
Never to say die,
I’m a man, not a bum,
Is his whining cry.
So out he is, storming mad,
To think that such as he,
Knocked down, kicked about
With such indignity. |
But when he sees the eye,
In the woman’s head,
It makes him wail a cry,
I see what I dread.Her eyes knocked him down,
A smile, picked him up,
Which makes him caper round,
Like a big old pup.
Nothing, to some thing, starts,
To make himself felt,
Nothing pass, some thing darts,
A blow to him is dealt.
He took the lick and said,
Woman, I will honor you,
All your life, with out dread,
To you, I’ll be true.
Man: How can you be true,
When untrue to self,
How can black be blue,
Or anything else.
So on through life he goes
With men, is wouthless kind,
With Women, who never does,
But to make men, blind. |
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