Ball & Chain - Martha Wainwright

Got your hand up all in my shirt

And you know that it hurts

Ball and chain, my ball and chain

Crossing the street you look so fine

Making up everything that’s in my mind

Ball and chain, ball and chain

You are the same with

Your balls and your chains

Bend me over the back of the car seat

Take me down to Easy Street

Ball and chain, ball and chain

You are the same with

Your balls and your chains

Oh yeah, oh yeah

Why does this always happen?

Why does this always happen?

Why?

Why?

Yeah

Yeah, her tits were higher than mine

With a waist that is sugar-fine

I heard she could read and write too

And she’s getting a degree in fucking you

Sexual psychology

It’s easier than philosophy

It’s easier than chemistry

Where’s my chemistry?

Why does this always happen?

Oh why does this always happen?

Why?

Why?

Why?