Thought that I, was doing good I made her laugh, a little woodenly She said, "You strike me, as somebody, whose four loads behind in the washing, need a little wifey" Well I went home, to draw the line To cut to the chase counted it up Well she was right. One in the twin tub, two in the basket, one on the floor still waiting to be asked in I met her again, her laugh no less wooden She varnished on a smile like something bad had just happened In fact it had, I found out much later Now she was listening, if not just slightly listing I told her she was right, twin tub and basket, two on the floor just waiting to be asked in But I'd been busy, worked out on a mangle To my suprise she said, you I could handle Things sometimes work out It all comes out in the wash But if it don't then theres no harm done (x2)