TROUBLE WITH WOMEN

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Song Title
TROUBLE WITH WOMEN
Writers
Weill, Nash
Publisher
HAMPSHIRE HOUSE PUBLISHING CORP. (ASCAP)
Co-Publisher
Non-TRO Affiliate
% Publisher Controls
50%
Territory Controlled
US
Themes/Keywords
Beauty, girl, God, Heart, Love, Romance, Sex, Strength, Trapped, Trouble, Wealth, Women
Lyrics
I once loved a girl out in Flatbush,
She was a picture of beauty and grace.
But she thought kittens came from a catbush,
And she never had heard of first base
So I travel no longer to Flatbush,
Tho’ the girl is both wealthy and pure
For whenever I tried my desires to confide,
Her mind was upon her coiffeur

Oh, the trouble, the trouble with women!
They soften your heart til it melts
And then at the critical moment,
They are thinking about something else.
God give me strength to ignor’m;
God give me strength.

As a student, my life was Parisian,
I languished, a captive of sex
And when specks interfered with my vision,
They were lovely, voluptuous specks
Then I toiled on a farm tilling soy beans,
Hoping fresh air would cure me, perhaps
But the girl beans got in with the boy beans,
Their example brought on a relapse

Oh, the trouble, the trouble with women!
You think you have left them behind
You frolic in physical freedom,
And then they turn up on your mind.
God give me strength to ignor’m;
God give me strength.

The reason each day I grow frailer,
Is that I’m trapped in a one way romance
With a lady who lives in a trailer,
With some devil may care debutantes
Her love for her kin is exquisite,
She entertains uncles galore
But whenever I pay her a visit
Them uncles wouldn’t open the door.
Oh, the trouble, the trouble with women!
I fear that their life is a lie.
While they stall you with maidenly murmurs,
They are romping with some other guy.
God give me strength to ignor’m;
God Give me strength.

When I drove my glamorous Chevvy,
I would park in a suitable spot
Then I’d turn to the girls like a heavy,
And inquire if they would, or would not
I always implied that they had to,
But jimminies, was I perplexed
The night that one she’d be glad to,
And I didn’t know what to do next

Oh, the trouble, the trouble with women!
They’re either too cold or too warm
Yes, they’re either in flight, or in satiable,
Oh God give me strength to ignor’m;
God give me strength.

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