The first thing in the door at night,
he heads for his easy chair.
He says, hi hun, what's for dinner?
Where's the paper?
Won't you please bring me a beer?
He may not sound like a lover boy,
but he suits me to a T.
Well,
he may not be God's gift to women,
but he's God's gift to me.
He may not be God's gift to women,
he ain't the killer Jeff,
baby.
He's getting fat on the top,
thick in the middle,
and he does as I'm watching TV.
But when it comes to loving me right,
a better man than ever could be.
Well, he may not be
God's gift to women, but he's God's gift to me.
He don't help me with my chair,
or compliment my hair,
or offer me his arm.
He walks around the house in his underwear,
a fat man just full of charm.
Now he may sound like he belongs in a cage,
and if he was,
I wouldn't set him free.
Well, he may not be
God's gift to women, but he's God's gift to me.
He may not be God's gift to women,
he ain't no Merle and Marty.
He's getting thin on the top,
thick in the middle,
and he does as I'm watching TV.
But when it comes to loving me right,
a better man than ever could be.
I said he may not be God's gift to women,
but he's God's gift to me.