Women
(With rather insincere apologies to Mr. Rudyard Kipling.)
I went to ask my government if they would set me free,
They gave a pardoned crook a vote, but hadn’t one for me;
The men about me laughed and frowned and said: “Go home, because
We really can’t be bothered when we’re busy making laws.”
Oh, it’s women this, and women that and women have no sense,
But it’s pay your taxes promptly when it comes to the expense,
It comes to the expense, my dears, it comes to the expense,
It’s pay your taxes promptly when it comes to the expense.
I went into a factory to earn my daily bread:
Men said: “The home is woman’s sphere.” “I have no home,” I said.
But when the men all marched to war, they cried to wife and maid,
“Oh, never mind about the home, but save the export trade.”
For it’s women this and women that, and home’s the place for you,
But it’s patriotic angels when there’s outside work to do,
There’s outside work to do, my dears, there’s outside work to do,
It’s patriotic angels when there’s outside work to do.
We are not really senseless, and we are not angels, too,
But very human beings, human just as much as you.
It’s hard upon occasions to be forceful and sublime
When you’re treated as incompetents three-quarters of the time.
But it’s women this and women that, and woman’s like a hen,
But it’s do the country’s work alone, when war takes off the men,
And it’s women this and women that and everything you please,
But woman is observant, and be sure that woman sees.