In a dirty old barroom in a town way up north
The old town philosopher was loudly putting forth
His opinions on everything from the large to the small.
He had something to say and he said it to all.
During a pause in one of the rants
A young man in the corner saw a brief chance
To put forth a question that was bothering him some
So he raised up his glass and his query did come.
Said that young man so pale skinned and fair
“I have a big question that I’d like to air.
A thinker like you an answer you’ll find
In the deep recesses somewhere in your mind.”
“My question is this” he said to the sage
“It has puzzled me greatly since a young age.
Why do women say what men want to hear,
Then tell us we didn’t get anything quite clear?”
“They tell you they want you to do this or do that,
then when you try it they hit your head with a bat.
They seem to want loving and cuddling too
But if your hands get too close its curtains for you.”
“So how, I ask you, wise man so smart
Can you tell what’s true in my lovers heart?
How can I know when to make the next move
And really get our love going in the right groove?”
The old guy was quiet, he scratched his big chin
He leaned his head this way then that way again.
He took off his hat then put it back on
And finally answered with a voice deep and strong.
“You’re asking a question as old as the hills.
One that has brought on all kinds of ills.
Wise men and thinkers down through the ages
Have written their answers on millions of pages.”
“But all of those answers and all of that paper
Mean less than nothing and I’ll do you a favor.
I’ll tell you the truth in one line, that’s all
Remember it well and live by its call.”
“There’s only one way to think of a girl
If you want to stay happy here in this world.
They mean only well and have kind ambitions
But they all have the hearts of career politicians.”
