It Never Rains But It Pours

I wrote this years and years ago, and just found it tonight when I was rummaging through an old backup CD looking for incriminating photos of a friend of mine. It’s fiction, of course, which is why it works. Think of it as being sung by a real genuine Aussie bloke, circa ages ago.


I met a lady at the races
The sort to floor the toughest bloke
She won a fortune in a minute, so she did
And spent it all till she was broke

Her eyes were utterly bewitching
Her smile could brighten up the day
Until she happened not to like a thing I said
And then her face was thunder grey

    It never rains but it pours, dear
It never rains but it pours
She’s either breathless or she snores, dear
She either nags or she ignores.

And so I asked for her hand then
She told me gladly, and she smiled
But if I thought she made me mad when first we met
Then being married drove me wild


She never did a spot of cleaning
She never raised her hand to cook
And when I asked her for a husband’s holy due
She gave me nothing but a look


And when I told her I’d an urging
To pass my name to younger kin’s
She got a look inside her lovely ruby eyes
And nine months later gave me twins!