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(Z. Walters) The fire in her eyes, is murderous and mean she tried to take me out with porcelin spoons and figuerines lucky i have been that she weighs in at a measly buck-10 drivin' in my car she's tried to yank the emergency brake one more strike against me and i know my life she'll take so i grabbed up my guitar and i loaded, loaded up my car it's a shame that we all don't live back in 1953 when beatin' on your wife was as common as just skippin down the street and now with the feminist movement, women think they can beat on me so, i'm movin' from town to town like Bill Bixby think that i'm all hidden on this shady far out street soakin' in the scenery when a shadow crosses me my hair stands up and my stomache drops as i turn, see those golden locks she'll sabotage your foot massage, she'll break into your new garage drag her key up and down your paint and pop the tires of your brand new dodge your voodoo dolls and psycho calls are just, just the final straws it's a shame that we all don't live back in 1953 when beatin' on your wife was as common as just skippin down the street and now with the feminist movement, women think they can beat on me so, i'm movin' from town to town like Bill Bixby (Thanks to euphoriobic for these lyrics) From Letras Mania