washing up

washing up

How tiring it is washing up
The silverware and coffee cups
Heavy feeding complicates
The task by soiling many plates

Through hills of suds I prayed
That we had a serving maid
I would smile and wink
At the old bag across the sink

I would make her wash in water hat
Scrub each dish, pan, and pot
I should stop dreaming and wasting time
It will never happen we haven't a dime

I married a man who never in his life
Washed a single dish with his wife
Or polished up a silver plate
But he boasts about being the perfect mate

Drying the dishes with care
Its stressful and all I can bare
The lord of the house would give me up
If I dropped his beer drinking cup