Текст: Hank Williams. First Year Blues.

Now I've been married about six months,
Only six months you see,
The first three months, was all ok,
But the last three is killin' me,
My wife began her hissin', cut down on her kissin',
And then she failed to shine my shoes,
My shirts they came up wrinkled,
My pants with dirt were sprinkled,
And then I took the first year blues.

Well then she started naggin',
She left the sink asaggin',
With dishes piled up high,
No food upon the table, she said if she was able,
She'd cook something bye and bye,
Then I began to wonder, if I had made a blunder,
When I said I do, she must have read my thinkin',
Her eyes began to blinkin' and that gal broke into.

Well I heard the dishes crashin',
And I began to dashin', gettin' out of sight,
For right there was my honey,
On who I'd spent my money, turnin' into dynamite,
Then after she'd exploded, her meanness all unloaded,
And things began to simmer down,
I found myself ableedin', and very much aneedin',
Of stitches taken all around.

Well then she started cryin', I felt myself asighin',
And then I took her in my arms,
I was afraid to scold her, so I just gently told her,
She didn't do a bit of harm,
Now the first six months is over, and I am much the older,
And experienced with a wife,
If I can stand the next six, my friends all say I'll be fixed,
To take it the rest of my life.