Mrs Woog and Lucy Jordan.

The mornin’ sun touched lightly on
the eyes Mrs Woog
In her white suburban bedroom,
which stank like fart and doom
As she lay there ‘neath the covers,
it is soon that she discovers,
The Woogettes were up they,
Wanted milk and Special K.

At the age of 37,
she realised she’d never ride
through Paris in a sports car,
with the warm wind in her hair
And she kept the coffee coming
While the Herald she started thumbing
If she sees that Tony Abbott
She will loudly start to swear.

Her husband, he was off to work,
and the kids were off to school
And there were oh so many ways
for her to spend her day
She could clean the house for hours,
or rearrange the flowers
Or curse the phantom shitter
For leaving skiddies in the loo.

The evening sun touched gently on
the eyes of Mrs Woog
The cat was fed the gin was poured
Mr Woog started in on his sexy mood
And she rolled her eyes at the man,
who reached and offered her his hand
And she said she had the mensies
He asks didn’t you have them last week?

At the age of 37,
she realised she’d only ride
to Chatswood in the Madza,
with an elastic in her hair
And she let the phone keep ringin’
Coz it was Mr Woogs constant bitchin
And Oprah was on the telly
Discussing importance of good underwear.

written with the help of Shel Silverstein (in 1973)