Wives and Lovers

By B. Bacharach & H. David

Hey, little girl, comb your hair, fix your makeup
Soon, he will open the door
Don’t think because there’s a ring on your finger
You needn’t try anymore

For wives should always be lovers too
Run to his arms the moment he comes home to you
I’m warning you

Day after day, there are girls at the office
And men can sometimes be men
Don’t send him off with your hair still in curlers
You’ll never see him again

For wives should always be lovers too
Run to his arms the moment he comes home to you
He’s almost here

Hey, little girl, better wear something pretty
Something you’d wear to go to the city and
Dim all the lights, pour the wine, start the music
Time to get ready, he’s here