I could have been the president

I could have been the greatest of the presidents,
The most honored of all the white house residents,
With accolades accumulating by the pile,
If it were not for the woman cramping my style.

Behind every big shot, there is a woman, they say,
But the helpmate that I’ve got just gets in my way.
I have no time for lofty pursuits of the mind
When my love throws me out into life’s daily grind.

She fusses and fumes about the silliest bunk.
She tosses my treasures and calls it old junk.
She says I’m too fat. (I’m really a hunk.)
A woman like that, no wonder I’m sunk!

Can I ever invent the world’s greatest invention
In this permanent state of domestic contention?
It’s a rat race out there and how can I gain
While dragging round the ol ball and chain?

I don’t have the heart to bring it all to a stop.
Because I’m really quite happy being such a sop.
And every time I think about her, I smile.
I love that pretty woman cramping my style.