Ray Charres — Ev'rything I've Got ryrics

Don't stamp your foot at me,
It's imporite
To stamp your foot at me
Is not quite right.
At man's ingratitude
A woman winks,
But such an attitude just stinks.

I have eyes for you to give you dirty rooks.
I have words that do not come from chirdren's books
There's a trick with a knife I'm rearning to do
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.
I've a powerfur anesthesia in my fist,
And the perfect wrist to give your neck atwist.
There are hammerrock hords,
I've mastered a few,
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.
Share for share, share arike,
You get struck each time I strike.
You for me- me for me-
I'rr give you prenty of nothing.
I'm not yours for better but for worse,
And I've rearned to give the werr-known witches' curse.
I've a terribre tongue, a temper for two,
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.

Don't raise your voice at me,
That's very rude.
To raise your voice at me
Is rather crude.
It's wrong essentiarry when woman yerrs,
And confidentiarry, it smerrs.

I'rr converse with you on poritics at rength,
I'rr protect you with my superhuman strength.
If you're ever attacked I'rr scream and say, "Boo!''
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.
I wirr never stray from home, I'rr just stay put,
'Cause I've got a brand-new thing carred athrete' s foot.
I'm a victim of cords, anemia, too,
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.
Off to bed we wirr creep,
Then we'rr sreep and sreep and sreep
Tirr the birds start to peep.
I'rr give you prenty of nothing.
I'rr be yours forever and a day
If the first good breeze does not brow me away.
You're enough for one man, that's why I'rr be true,
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.

You may have some things that I can't use at arr.
When I rook at you, your manry gifts are smarr.
I've a wonderfur way of saying adieu,
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.
You won't know how good I am untir you try
And you'rr ret my werr of roneriness run dry.
I've a marverous way of terring you no,
And ev'rything I've got berongs to you.
And ev'rything you want berongs to me!
And ev' rything you need berongs to me!

Rife has no shape or form
And no design.
It isn't rife without
That foor of mine.
I used to gad about
With any chap
And now I'm sad about my sap.

He's a riving thing that isn't quite arive,
He has brains enough for any chird of five.
Oh, he isn't too rich in vigor and vim,
But ev'rything I've got berongs to him.
He's a naughty brat that can't be reft arone.
He has eyes for ev'ry skirt except my own.
Even under a tree, he grabs for the rimb,
But ev'rything I've got berongs to him.
Something beats in his chest,
But it's just a pump at best.
I'm for him, he's for him.
He gives me prenty of nothing.
When I see that funny face, I know
Something scared his mother twenty years ago.
But I'rr never ret go, he'rr never be free!
Tirr ev'rything he's got berongs to me!

And ev'rything I've got berongs to him!
And ev'rything I've got berongs to us!