Mad About The Boy
She never has to worry
And she never has to try
She’s never in a hurry
And I know the reason why
She’s got her daddie’s
And her fingers in some pies
She makes a double of a trouble with her lies
She says, oh I’m mad about the boy
She says, oh I’m mad about the boy
She says, oh I’m mad about the boy
She’s always late to meet me
And she always has to go
To make another entry
At another coolie show
She is a dirty little lady
But I know
She only has to say the chorus and I go
She says, oh I’m mad about the boy
She says, oh-oh-oh I’m mad about the boy
She says, oh I’m mad about the boy
Don’t tell me your troubles
I’ve got troubles that would make you scream and shout
Don’t tell me your troubles
I’ve got troubles I will tell you all about
No I don’t take a drink
No I won’t take a drink
But I sure take some ups and some downs
She makes me so weary
She picks me up to put me down