Em A Em Don't get married girl, You'll sign away your lifeG D C D Em You may start off as a woman, But you'll end up as the wifeEm A Em You could be a Vestal Virgin, Take the veil and be a nunG D C B7 But don't get married girl, For marraige isn't funE Em B7 Oh it's fine when you're romancing, And he plays the lovers partA E Em B7 You're the roses in his garden, You're the flame that warms his heartA E A E And his love will last forever, And he'll promise you the moonB7 E B7 E But just wait until you're wedded, Then he'll sing a different tuneA E A E You're his tapioca pudding, You're the dumplings in his stewA E Em B7 But he'll soon begin to wonder, What he ever saw in youA E A E Sure he takes without complaining, All the dishes you provideB7 E B7 E For you see he's got to have, His bit of jam tart, On the sideEm A Em So don't get married girls, It's very badly paidG D C D Em You may start off as the mistress, But you'll end up as the maidEm A Em Be a daring deep sea diver, Be a polished polyglotG D C B7 But don't get married girls, For marriage is a plotE Em B7 Aarh you seen him in the morning, With a face that looks like deathA E Em B7 With dandruff on his pillow, And tobacco on his breathA E A E And he needs some reassurance, With his cup of tea in bedB7 E B7 E For he's worried by the mortgage, And the bald patch on his headA E A E And he's sure that you're his mother, Lays his head upon your breastA E Em B7 So you try to boost his ego, Iron his shirt, And warm his vestA E A E Then you get him off to work, The mighty hunter is restoredB7 E B7 E And he leaves you there with nothing, But the dreams you can't affordEm A Em So don't get married girls, 'Cause men are all the sameG D C D Em They'll just use you, When they want you, You'd do better on the gameEm A Em Be a call girl, Be a stripper, Be a hostess, Be a whoreG D C B7 But don't get married girls, For marriage is a boreE Em B7 When he comes home in the evening, He can hardly spare a lookA E Em B7 All he says is ''What's for dinner?'', After all you're just the cookA E A E But when he takes you to a party, Where he eye's you with a frownB7 E B7 E For you know you've got to look your best, You mustn't let him downA E A E And he'll clutch you with that look,While 'ere's that twinkle in his eyesA E Em B7 Like he's entered for a raffle, And he's won you for the prizeA E A E Ahh but when the partys over, You'll be slogging through the sludgeB7 E B7 E Half the time a decoration, The other half, A drudgeEm A Em So don't get married, It'll drive you round the bendG D C D Em It's a lane without a turning, It's the end without an endEm A Em Take a lover every friday, Take up tennis, Be a nurseG D C B7 But don't get married girls, For marriage is a curseA E A E Then you get him off to work, The mighty hunter is restoredB7 E B7 E And he leaves you there with nothing, But the dreams you can't afford
Dont Get Married
The Dubliners
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