My wife throws at me
Any object she'll see,
Projectile!
Like a chair, painted tan,
Or a large fryin' pan
When poo hits the fan,
They'll zoom!

Most times get along,
But when things go wrong,
Projectile!
I'll retreat from the battle,
Like a gopher from cattle,
When there's fire in her perfume..

She's so cute, such a beaut,
But as tough as nails
If she's riled, she'll go wild
The demon of females...

Bottles appear,
Or hard cans of beer,
Projectile!
I've learned how to duck,
Prayin' for good luck,
Hopin' she'll miss a mile..

Angry chick, real short wick
When she lets off steam
All things be..her weaponry
In her eyes, a gleam..

Wet floor mop,
Lands beside me with a flop,
Projectile!
Next a big bar a' soap,
A long telescope,
To the Pope, better make my plea..

Her can open-er,
Flies by with a blur,
Projectile!
Better stay on my toes,
That last one was close
Could wind up, Emergency..

Now she stops, her hand drops,
Quietly with shame
Wipe my brow, peaceful now,
No more..that crazy game..

She cries a moan,
Real sorry that she's thrown
Projectile!
As she holds me sweet in her embrace
I wipe all the teardrops from her face
But next time she's mad at me,
Once again I'll see,
Projectile!
Projectile!
Projectile!