|
Hey, little girl |
|
Comb your hair, fix your make-up |
|
Soon he will open the door |
|
Don't think because |
|
There's a ring on your finger |
|
You needn't try any more |
|
For wives should always be lovers, too |
|
Run to his arms the moment he comes home to you |
|
I'm warning you |
|
Day after day |
|
There are girls at the office |
|
And men will always be men |
|
Don't send him off |
|
With your hair still in curlers |
|
You may not see him again |
|
For wives should always be lovers, too |
|
Run to his arms the moment he comes home to you |
|
He's almost here |
|
Hey, little girl |
|
Better wear something pretty |
|
Something you'd wear to go to the city |
|
And dim all the lights |
|
Pour the wine, start the music |
|
Time to get ready for love |
|
Oh, time to get ready |
|
Time to get ready |
|
Time to get ready |
|
For love. |
