[Verse 1] She goes in her room and closes the door, She’s "fixin' to get ready," which I adore. It takes her hours to get things in place, Slip into her "good jeans" and put on her face. She’s in pieces when she goes in there, Into her Frankenstein lair. Cause when she comes out, giving me side eye, I’m saying, "It’s alive! It’s alive!" [Verse 2] “I’m tired, not thinking straight,” Honey, that’s your waking state. We carry on, we giggle and laugh, It’s hilarious when she tries to do math. And she can’t cook neither, Can’t boil water or cook an egg either. [Chorus] She talks in circles, she makes no sense, No matter the question, she [Verse 3] Sometimes, she sits and she stitches, She mumbles to herself and the matrix glitches. She answers her own questions with questions, Her brain bogs down with thinking congestion. I have to kiss her to break her free, She does it on purpose, it’s a sight to see. [Guitar Solo: Crunchy, bluesy slide guitar] [Bridge] Until she came along, I was living all wrong, But she’s fixed all that, and it didn't take long. There’s a right way to wear a hat, Get out of bed, drive, and feed the cat. Put on socks and even my shoes— I never knew life had so many rules. [Chorus] She talks in circles, she makes no sense, No matter the question, she’s on the fence. She’s a klutz, she stumbles, she falls, Put her on the spot, she backpedals and stalls. But I gotta say… Yep, I gotta say… She’s my world, I love her to death, But man let me tell you, my wife’s a mess. [Outro] She’s all mine And I’ll be fine Cause I’ve been blessed With a wife who’s a mess.