With mouth full of Tobacco, at ease near the grate.
They’ll sit and vehemently expectorate;
And the women are lucky if they can keep out
Of the streaks of tobacco-juice flying about!
Chorus
And tobacco-smoke fragrant will flow
In beautiful wreaths, you know!
The women, poor things, must wash, mend and bake,
And should there occur the slightest mistake
The men-folks will growl, and help things along
And emphasize things with language strong!
Chorus
Their masculine nature they show—
(Rather growl than work, you know!)
’Tis predicted the time is not far away
When the men-folks, cast down, let the women hold sway;
The men will be piled in one gigantic heap,
Then Perfection’s sweet presence the women will keep!
Chorus
For the women will work, and so
They’ll manage things nicely, you know!