Wifey flings open bedroom door,
Not gazing kindly, a picture she draws,
Wife blows her nose, her cheeks are a'rose,
Her husband lies there, full of moans,
Her husband begs,
Wifey  takes a breath,
"Yes, dear, I know you have a man-cold,
But, dear, I,  too, have a man-cold,
But women are not allowed to groan
or nag, says men, you are alone,
I, too, have a man-cold,
But, this washing is getting old,
I'm cooking tea and minding the kids,
No, dear,  I shan't make soup like your mother did,
Yes, dear, the undertakers are near,
Here's your last will for your man cold, dear,
Yes, dear, I know you have a man-cold,
Your whinging, is, like, well, old!
I have to iron your shirts now,
Yes, dear, I know I am a fat old cow,
But, dear, I have your ***** in my purse,
I do hope our man colds don't get worse!"