Mr. Woolworth, I've got a complaint
About one can of ten cent paint
My wife, she bought from your darn store
And now, by heck, I'm good and sore.
My wife, she's clean and she's neat,
So she buys paint for toilet seat;
And one whole week, we watch with eye
But that darn paint, it don't get dry.
My wife's not tall, she's rather fat'
Now you can see just where she sat.
She's got a big round ring complete,
Where she sat down on toilet seat.
I said to her, it serves you right,
You try to be so gosh darn tight;
That ten cent paint is no darn good,
Cause it won't dry on that there wood.
My daughter she got ring around,
When on the seat, she too sat down.
For one whole week, by heck, we wait,
And now we all are constipate.
By gosh, we don't know what to do,
You got to eat and some come through,
My wife, she cry and cry and cry,
But that darn paint it don't get dry.
She's got a sister, named Marie'
Who live all the time in house with me.
Last night, I look where she sit down,
By gosh, she too has ring around.
I tried to wipe with turpentine,
She howled like wolf, she lose her mind,
I scrubbed & scrubbed for half a day.
The skin come off the paint it stayed
I've live a long time, but never see,
A man that gets as mad as me;
And when I think about that paint,
I get so mad I almost faint.
Now Mr. Woolworth, I ask you,
What the heck are we going to do?
For how can the house be clean and neat,
If paint don't dry on toilet seat?