nah, nah, nah; nah, nah, nah, hey, hey, goodbye
Been a whole lot easier since the bitch left town
Been a whole lot happier without her face around
Nobody upstairs gonna stomp and shout
Nobody at the back door gonna throw my laundry out
She holds your shotgun while you dote-se-doe
She want one man made of Hercules and Cyrano
Been a whole lot easier since the bitch is gone
Little miss, little miss, little miss can’t be wrong