THE GAL WHO’S GONNA MARRY ME

She can sew; she can hoe; she can read; she can write.
She can cook a man a breakfast in the middle of the night.
She can cut up a chicken; she can cut down a tree.
That’s the girl who’s gonna marry me.
She can dig; she can jig; she can juggle; she can jump.
She can drive a fella crazy with a wiggle of her rump.
She can stand in the saddle; she can sit on your knee.
That’s the girl who’s gonna marry me.

She can joke; she can smoke; she can drink a dozen beers.
She can move a grand pianna; she can move a man to tears.
She can pour out her heart; she can pour out your tea.
That’s the girl who’s gonna marry me.
She can bite; she can fight; she can flirt; she can fool.
She can shoot a mountain lion; she can shoot a little bull.
She’s dead as a parrot and faithful as a flea.
That’s the girl who’s gonna marry me.

She can roast; she can toast; she can boil; she can bake.
She can cut a fella dead; she can cut a slice o’ cake.
She can cook a fella’s goose; she can fry a fricassee.
That’s the girl who’s gonna marry me.
She can sweep; she can weep; she can giggle; she can grin.
She can play a little poker; she can play a little gin.
She’s as spicy as a pickle and sweeter than a pea.
That’s the girl who’s gonna marry me That’s the girl who’s gonna marry me.