Leon Rosselson 1973
The song inevitably met with mixed reactions when performed in clubs and pubs, but recalls a time when the feminist movement had a genuine momentum, and thanks in part to its sense of humour, is one of his more popular. Published in his book “That’s Not the Way It’s Got to Be” in 1973, recorded on “Love, Loneliness, Laundry” in 1977. “As I think songwriters have some responsibility to catch the spirit of the times, I wrote this song, drawn from observation and some personal experience, which had quite a vogue for a time. It was featured in a TV programme about Fringe Theatre songs, sung in music hall style by Liz Mansfield, who was at that time in the Red Ladder Theatre Company, and recorded in a miners’ club in Yorkshire. The women seemed to relish the performance; the miners looked distinctly uncomfortable.”
Nancy Kerr: https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/dont-get-married-girls
https://nancykerr.bandcamp.com/track/dont-get-married-girls
Chorus 1 Don’t get married, girls – you’ll sign away your life You may start off as a woman but you’ll end up as ‘the Wife’ You could be a vestal virgin, take the veil and be a nun But don’t get married, girls, for marriage isn’t fun It’s fine when you’re romancing and he plays the lover’s part You’re the roses in his garden, you’re the flame that warms his heart And his love will last forever and he’ll promise you the moon But just wait until you’re wedded then he’ll sing a different tun? You’re his tapioca pudding, you’re the dumplings in his st?w And he’ll soon begin to wonder what he ever saw in you Still he takes without complaining all the dishes you provide But you see he has to have his bit of jam tart on the side Chorus 2 So don’t get married, girls, it’s very badly paid You may start off as the mistress but you’ll end up as the maid Be a daring deep-sea diver, be a polished polyglot But don’t get married, girls, for marriage is a plot Have you seen him in the morning with a face that looks like death He’s got dandruff on his pillow and tobacco on his breath And he wants some reassurance with his cup of tea in bed For he’s got worries with the mortgage and the bald patch on his head And he’s sure that you’re his mother, lays his head upon your breast So you try to boost his ego, iron his shirt and warm his vest Then you get him off to work, the mighty hunter is restored And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can’t afford Chorus 3 So don’t get married, girls, men are all the same They just use you when they need you, you’ll do better on the game Be a call girl, be a stripper, be a hostess, be a whore But don’t get married, girls, for marriage is a bore When he comes home in the evening he can hardly spare a look All he says is, What’s for dinner – after all, you’re just the cook But when he takes you to a party he eyes you with a frown And you know you’ve got to look your best, you mustn’t let him down Then he’ll clutch you with that ‘Look-what-I’ve-got’ twinkle in his eyes Like he’s entered for a raffle and he’s won you for the prize But when the party’s over you’ll be slogging through the sludge Half the time a decoration and the other half a drudge Chorus 4 So don’t get married, it’ll drive you round the bend It’s the lane without a turning, it’s the end without an end Change your lover every Friday, take up tennis, be a nurse But don’t get married, girls, for marriage is a curse Then you get him off to work, the mighty hunter is restored And he leaves you there with nothing but the dreams you can’t afford