Should I betray you to Charlene? She doesn't know the things I've seen She must still think you're Mr. Clean Just like the man she wed Should I betray you to your spouse? The wife who waits back at the house She doesn't know that you're a louse That's not the man she wed She doesn't know the deals you make The throats you cut, the vows you break To buy up some old lady's stake Quick before she's dead She doesn't see your oily smarm You pour on in the place of charm When you've got some shopgirl by the arm Steering her into bed That virgin forest you chopped down To build another ugly town I'll tell your wife you bribed them round To back your plan instead But perhaps she doesn't want to see The heel that you turned out to be That's why she'll take a gin or three To drive doubts from her head While she's working hard enough With housework, kids, and all that stuff You're out there with some bit of fluff Cruising on the Med She thought the leopard's spots were paint She thought she'd turn you to a saint Kept hoping, though the hope grew faint That you were better bred