she buys him food and clothing
she does his laundry
she washes stinking shirts
and she gets nothing in return
he's out there earning wages
talking dirty all the time
when he comes home for supper
he wants a slave and not a wife
at nights she wears sweet nothings
to please his dirty mind
he does his wham-bang-special
and falls asleep right by her side

let me tell you now
you don't need a woman, you need a slave
and it's no excuse for the way you behave
well, you don't need a woman

she can't wear too much make-up
'cause make-up that's for whores
he sees her when she wakes up
isn't she a bore
the weekends are for football
or for drinking with the boys
her heart is doing time
in a prison with no walls

let me tell you now
you don't need a woman, you need a slave
and it's no excuse for the way you behave
well, you don't need a woman