Maurice Burkhart Oh How That Woman Could Cook
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First Verse:
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I once knew a woman
Who couldn't spell "it",
Her face was as strained as a smile,
The clothes that she wore
Was a terrible fit,
From the year behind yesterday's style,
All she ever said was
"Hello" and "Goodbye",
And then she'd sit dumb for an hour,
And sometimes the single sweet
song she would try,
Was himmel and came out so sour,
Yet any time
Up to her house you could go,
It was always packed up, like a good nickel show,
For, Oh!
How that woman could cook,
Her food was like grand opera sound,
Why you could give her dining room
Table one look,
Right away you gained seven pounds,
A sick man could eat himself
Well pretty quick,
And when he got well, well he ate himself sick,
And her pies without question,
Could cure indigestion,
Oh god how that woman could cook
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Second Verse:
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When she gave a party
And then a big spread,
She hired a hall like a dance,
And all those who knew of it
One week ahead,
Stopped eating two weeks in advance,
The singing and playing
Of games were all nixed,
Who cared for post parties or trips,
For the twelve-o'clock lunch
They were ready at six,
And no old maids wished to be kissed,
The way they would rush
To the table's a crime,
I know because I was there first all the time,
For, Oh!
How that woman could cook,
The blue point and cocktails were out,
She didn't care
For the White House cook book,
And we started with spare ribs and trout,
When someone stopped eating
Her feelings were hurt,
And we always had hot water bags for dessert,
With our hearts wildly beating,
We cried "Let's die eating!",
Oh god how that woman could cook
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Third Verse:
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I once had a meal
In a high town hotel,
Where the waiters were dressed up like dudes,
The crockery and the silver
Were terribly swell,
But I didn't care much for the food,
So I ordered some, “consommé"
Account of the name,
I thought I'd be swell when in doubt,
But it made me quite crazy
To find when it came,
It was the soup with the filling left out,
So I said "Here, meil waiter,
coimel heya, here's a tip,
When you're hungry to my friends house just take a trip",
For, Oh!
How that woman could bake,
I tell you the words don't come out,
Why she made a pie
called, "Plum-Pudding Cake",
It simply would melt in your mouth, no doubt!
Her sauces and puddings
Would just make you weak,
And when you drank her coffee, your feet fell asleep,
And her liver and onions,
Could cure corns and bunions,
Gott im himmel, how that woman could cook!
