The Dubliners – Dont Get Married (Ukulele)

    Am                             D             Am
   Don't get married girl, You'll sign away your life

             C              G                 F     G      Am
   You may start off as a woman,  But you'll end up as the wife

             Am                             D            Am
   You could be a Vestal Virgin,  Take the veil and be a nun

        C           G                  F           E7
   But don't get married girl,  For marraige isn't fun

            A                                  Am               E7
   Oh it's fine when you're romancing, And he plays the lovers part

                D            A                 Am                   E7
   You're the roses in his garden, You're the flame that warms his heart

            D                 A                 D              A
   And his love will last forever,  And he'll promise you the moon

             E7                 A                  E7               A
   But just wait until you're wedded,  Then he'll sing a different tune

                 D       A                     D              A
   You're his tapioca pudding,   You're the dumplings in his stew

               D             A              Am           E7
   But he'll soon begin to wonder,  What he ever saw in you

             D                A                  D          A
   Sure he takes without complaining,  All the dishes you provide

            E7              A                 E7                 A
   For you see he's got to have,  His bit of jam tart,   On the side

      Am                              D          Am
   So don't get married girls,  It's very badly paid

             C                 G                   F     G      Am
   You may start off as the mistress,  But you'll end up as the maid

          Am                              D       Am
   Be a daring deep sea diver,    Be a polished polyglot

        C           G                   F           E7
   But don't get married girls,  For marriage is a plot

              A                                Am                   E7
   Aarh you seen him in  the morning,  With a face that looks like death

           D              A            Am            E7
   With dandruff on his pillow,  And tobacco on his breath

            D             A                   D             A
   And he needs some reassurance,   With his cup of tea in bed

               E7             A                E7                A
   For he's worried by the mortgage,  And the bald patch on his head

              D                    A                D               A
   And he's sure that you're his mother,  Lays his head upon your breast

           D                A              Am                   E7
   So you try to boost his ego,  Iron his shirt,  And warm his vest

             D              A                   D          A
   Then you get him off to work,   The mighty hunter is restored

            E7                     A                E7               A
   And he leaves you there with nothing,  But the dreams you can't afford

       Am                               D               Am
   So don't get married girls,  'Cause men are all the same

                 C                   G                   F    G       Am
   They'll just use you, When  they want you, You'd do better on the game

         Am                                 D             Am
   Be a call girl,  Be a stripper,  Be a hostess,   Be a whore

        C           G                   F           E7
   But don't get married girls,  For marriage is a bore

             A                                  Am             E7
   When he comes home in the evening,   He can hardly spare a look

            D                    A               Am                   E7
   All he says is ''What's for dinner?'',  After all you're just the cook

                 D              A               D                 A
   But when he takes you to a party,  Where he eye's you with a frown

            E7                 A                    E7              A
   For you know you've got to look your best,  You mustn't let him down

                D                  A                       D             A
   And he'll clutch you with that look,While 'ere's that twinkle in his eyes

                D            A                Am               E7
   Like he's entered for a raffle,   And he's won you for the prize

            D               A                  D                   A
   Ahh but when the partys over,  You'll be slogging through the sludge

             E7         A              E7              A
   Half the time a decoration,    The other half,  A drudge

       Am                          D                  Am
   So don't get married,   It'll drive you round the bend

           C                G                F      G      Am
   It's a lane without a turning,  It's the end without an end

           Am                            D            Am
   Take a lover every friday,  Take up tennis,  Be a nurse

        C           G                    F           E7
   But don't get married girls,   For marriage is a curse

             D               A                 D          A
   Then you get him off to work,  The mighty hunter is restored

             E7                    A                E7               A
   And he leaves you there with nothing,  But the dreams you can't afford