Well once, my life was great
I never had to wash the dishes
I ate off paper plates
and all my laundry smelled like fishes

I lived without a doubt
That my way was the sure way
Alas...that is no more..
I do things Her Way

So when I cook an egg
I cannot fry it; I must boil it
And woe be to the dreg
who leaves the seat up on the toilet

The things I put up with
They make me kind of wish I were gay
But she would not approve
That is not Her Way

Yes, there are times that I watch sports
Lounging around in undershorts
But it never fails; she wants romance
And that means I must put on pants
Her favorite pair; and comb my hair
And comb it Her Way

And now she seems upset
She hears the things that I am singing
A broom I'll have to get
To clean the china she'll be flinging

And then I'll put up shelves
Because she told me to last Thursday
I'll have it done by twelve
And I'll do it Her Way

The world is a stage; or so I've heard
If that is true, then it's absurd
For I am a Man; oh, am I not?
I'll take her script, and change the plot
I think I'll go
And toss that ho
Right down the Stairwaaaay