‘Beautiful Women Everywhere’ - Original Song by MAdoK958 Copyright © 2026 MAdoK958 suno.com/@madok958 ⸻ You know what’s strange about beautiful women? They’re everywhere. Supermarkets. Airports. Coffee shops. Walking past you when you’re trying very hard to remember that you are A respectable married man. And then… you go home. And your wife says: “Did you remember the dishwasher tablets?” No, darling. I was busy remembering my vows. There’s a woman at the coffee shop. Absolutely stunning. PerfecT hair. PerfecT smile. Laughs like she’s never once asked a man why the recycling bin is still full. She says: “Have a nice day.” That’s it. Four words. And suddenly I’m thinking: What a wonderful person. Kind. Warm. Understanding. I know absolutely nothing about her. I know absolutely nothing about her. For all I know, she throws plates at Christmas. But she hasn’t thrown one at me. So currently… she’s winning. My wife used to say things like: “I miss you.” Now she says: “While you’re up…” That sentence has ruined more evenings than alcohol ever could. “While you’re up, could you get my charger?” Where is it? “I don’t know.” Of course you don’t. Because apparently marriage turned me into airport security. Shoes off. Pockets empty. Everybody stay calm. We’re looking for a white iPhone cable. Beautiful women everywhere. Beautiful. Mysterious. Peaceful. Mostly because… I don’t live with them. That’s the trick, isn’t it? The woman across the room has never reminded you that you snore. She’s never watched you load a dishwasher and quietly said: “Interesting.” You know that word. Interesting. After fifteen years of marriage, “interesting” means: I have never respected you less than I do at this exact moment. Pretty woman walks past. Perfume. Nice dress. Little smile. Brain says: Wow. Wife walks past. Stops. Looks at the floor. Looks at me. Looks back at the floor. I already know. There’s something on the floor. And somehow… it’s my fault. And men are idiots too. Let’s be fair. A beautiful stranger laughs at one joke and we immediately create an entire fictional relationship. She understands me. Does she? She asked if this chair was taken. Calm down, Romeo. Beautiful women everywhere. Beautiful. Mysterious. Perfect. Mostly because… they haven’t had enough time to get annoyed with me yet. Because somewhere, that beautiful woman has a husband too. And right now he’s probably sitting on a sofa looking at her thinking: For the love of God… please stop telling me how your colleague Sandra organized the office kitchen. Meanwhile, I’m looking at his wife thinking: She seems fascinating. That’s marriage. One man’s mysterious goddess is another man’s forty-minute story about a parking space. So yes… I notice beautiful women. I’m married. I’m not blind. But eventually you learn something important. The beautiful stranger has flaws you haven’t discovered yet. Your wife? You’ve discovered all of hers. She’s discovered all of yours. She knows exactly how irritating you are… and somehow… she’s still there. Probably because I still haven’t fixed that shelf. …I’ll do it Saturday.
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