Where oh where has my little wife gone,
 
where oh where can she be,
 
she’s gone to town,
 
with her pretty dress on
 
So, all of the ladies can see.
 
 
I sit in the garden and ponder her smile,
 
wondering why she’s not here,
 
I piss and I moan when she’s gone for awhile,
 
Yet still complain when she’s near.
 
 
When she comes home, we’ll lay on her bed,
 
and talk til the rise of the moon,
 
munching on grapes til where totally fed,
 
then up to the rafters we’ll swoon.