Everybody knows the passion
Women (bless ‘em) have for fashion.
Shape of skirt or style of blouson,
Should I put my high heeled shoes on?
Leather, suede, acrylic, wool,
Every style imaginable
Is stuffed into their wardrobe’s lair,
Although they claim there’s naught in there.
But now, I see, they’ve started staring
At the trousers we are wearing.
Apparently, it seems to rankle
That we show a shapely ankle,
And it is deemed a tad unpleasant,
Flashing socks with women present.
And no, our flares do not conform
With what should constitute the norm.
They’re far too thin or far too wide
Or trail the ground with every stride.
And belts should sit upon the hips!
What? Even when we’re stuffed with chips?
We should tell our errant spouses,
To get their eyes off menfolk’s trousers,
Or else we’ll tell you, plain and pat,
That yes, your bum looks big in that.
Women (bless ‘em) have for fashion.
Shape of skirt or style of blouson,
Should I put my high heeled shoes on?
Leather, suede, acrylic, wool,
Every style imaginable
Is stuffed into their wardrobe’s lair,
Although they claim there’s naught in there.
But now, I see, they’ve started staring
At the trousers we are wearing.
Apparently, it seems to rankle
That we show a shapely ankle,
And it is deemed a tad unpleasant,
Flashing socks with women present.
And no, our flares do not conform
With what should constitute the norm.
They’re far too thin or far too wide
Or trail the ground with every stride.
And belts should sit upon the hips!
What? Even when we’re stuffed with chips?
We should tell our errant spouses,
To get their eyes off menfolk’s trousers,
Or else we’ll tell you, plain and pat,
That yes, your bum looks big in that.
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