HOUSEWIVES CHOICE (In Party Mood)
(Music – Jack Strachy / Lyrics – Russell Davies)
Recorded by Julie Covington


Darn the socks and wash the clocks and polish up the letter box 
And ask the doctor come and look at Tommy, 
It's honestly enough to drive you barmy
'Specially when you husbands in the army - barmy


Feed the cat and beat the mat and write a note to Auntie Pat 
To thank her very kindly for the mincer
She sent it all the ruddy way from Windsor 
Shame we've 'ad a mincer since before the war


So who would be a housewife, it's lower than a mouse life
It's enough to make you run away to sea
The world is not my oyster I'm living in a cloister
I'm unable to be me


Free to put me feet up, and turn the blessed heat up
Well I tell you ladies, that will be the day
The weather's always freezing, I've done my flaming knees in
Putting polish on the parlour parquet


Queue for ages in the street, to try to buy a piece of meat
To give the kids a little treat for dinner
When all I'll probably get from Mr Skinner
Is something like a nasty tin of pilchards liver


What's the latest fashion look, and where 've I put me ration book
Perhaps I should be rash and cook me pancake
The tea's about the only thing I can make
I'm sure I've drunk enough of the stuff to drop down dead.


  What a relief to turn the wireless on-


On at just after nine,
There's a favourite of mine
It's a beautiful, musical revelry
You can hear the latest thing recorded by Crosby
Or that fairy sugar dancing thing by Tchaikovsky


There's a song about flees
And another called "Trees"
And there's Victor Sylvester and Webster Booth
So now if you've a favourite voice
>From Bing to the Piano Boys
Just send a request into Housewives’ Choice


Now at forty years have passed and still we're in the kitchen singing


Put the washing on to spin and get some avacados in
And marinade the meat to make it tender
And don't forget today you've got to send a
rather stroppy letter to the blender mender


Pick the boys up after school and drop them at the swimming pool
And feed them up to turn them into he-men
Do everything but actually be men
That's the life you lead if you're a house wife.


Help the baby count his toes, untangle all your pantyhose
Send your auntie Maud a rose and wash your hands and blow your nose
Chop some wood and make a fire,
mend a fuse and patch a tyre
Join the local ladies choir,
find yourself the time to buy a hat,
And that's that.










(Contributed by Bill Huntley - November 2008)