working gal
I know a technical woman
Don’t think you’d like to meet her.
I know a technical woman
She’s a man-eater.
I know a technical woman
Eats me alive.
I know a technical woman
Does it from nine to five.
She always brings rainy weather
Whether I need it or not.
How is it with all that rain
She always gives me dry rot?
She’s got a special accordion
Only plays it at high noon.
Leaves me gasping on the floor
After sucking all the air out of the room.
Goes to church every day
She’s never late.
Don’t matter that god’s the witness
Takes money even
From an empty collection plate.
She’s a devil of a woman
Masquerading in Salvation Army clothes.
Going for that peak of success
No matter how far down she has to go.
The woman’s got a special technique
Unfortunately not unique.
Only gift she ever gave me
Was the game of hide-and-seek.
She stole all the time
A poor watch had
It cried out,
‘I got no more to give.’
She put a gun to its face
Made it hold up its hands
Said ‘Looks to me like you’ve just run out
Of time left to live.’
Her eyes have killed the kindness
That comes from perfect blindness
Without even pausing for breath.
And when no one was looking
She even used a toehold
To kill a perfect death.
The woman’s got a special technique
Unfortunately not unique.
Only gift she ever gave me
Was the game of hide-and-seek.
She was with a healthy man
For only five minutes
But it was time enough
To give him the business.
You wouldn’t have known
She was in a hurry
When she took the time
To phone the cemetery.
Told ‘em she had control
Told ‘em not to worry
There was nothing left to see
Let alone, let alone to bury.
I know a technical woman
Ruins my tennis serve.
I know a technical woman
Makes a Sherman tank swerve.
I know a technical woman
Drives me off of dead man’s curve.
I know a technical woman
Got one hell of a nerve.
The woman’s got a special technique
Unfortunately not unique
Only gift she ever gave me
Was the game of hide-and-seek.