So this husband came home drunk each night
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And he thrashed her black and he thrashed her white
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He thrashed her to within an inch of her life
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Then he slept like a log, did her husband
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But as he lay and snored in bed
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A strange idea came into her head
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So she went for the needle and she went for the thread
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And straight to her sleeping husband
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She started to stitch with a girlish thrill
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With a woman's art and a seamstress' skill
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She pinned and tucked with an iron will
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All around her sleeping husband
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When her husband awoke with a pain in his head
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He found he could not move in bed
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'Sweet Christ I've lost the use of me legs!'
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But the wife just smiled at her husband
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Then she thrashed him black, she thrashed him blue
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With a frying pan and a colander, too
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With a rolling pin just a stroke or two
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A battered and bleeding husband
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Isn't it true what small can do
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With a thread and a stitch and a thought or two
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He's wiped his slate, his boozing's through
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Goodbye to a drunken husband
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Kick out the jams, motherfucker!
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Shhh
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Stitch That
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Chumbawamba |