Thought that I, was doing good
I made her laugh, a little woodenly
She said, "You strike me, as somebody, whose four loads behind in the washing, need a little wifey"
Well I went home, to draw the line
To cut to the chase counted it up
Well she was right..

One in the twin tub, two in the basket, one on the floor still waiting to be asked in

I met her again, her laugh no less wooden
She varnished on a smile like something bad had just happened
In fact it had, I found out much later
Now she was listening, if not just slightly listing
I told her she was right, twin tub and basket, two on the floor just waiting to be asked in

But I'd been busy, worked out on a mangle
To my suprise she said, you I could handle

Things sometimes work out
It all comes out in the wash
But if it don't then theres no harm done (x2)