The Woman In The Tool Shop

My job is full of heartaches
and no wonder I am blue,
It's terrible the awful things
that I'm supposed to do.
and if it wasn't for the fact
that I'm a virtuous miss,
I wouldn't have the nerve
to even finish this.

I had no way of knowing
the way the shopmen talk,
But now a dozen times a day
my modesty is shocked.

The fellows crowd around me
like a lot of crazy fools,
until they have me dizzy
handing out their gosh darn tools.
I don't mind the decent tools,
like wrenches, drills and shears,
but what some fellows ask for
makes me red behind the ears.

The man repairing bearings
comes and asks to see my balls,
and then he laughs and stares at me
until the next man calls.
They ask for cocks to fit on pipes,
for counter bores and tits,
and when they ask me for a screw,
it scares me into fits,

They come and ask for reamers
to enlarge their small holes,
They're driving me plumb crazy;
darn their rotten souls.
They ask me for a ratchet bit
and for bastard files.
They always make dirty cracks
as through the screen they smile.
They ask me for a female gauge,
and it's a sad, sad, tale,
because I can't tell
the damn things from a male.

One fellow finds his tool too short,
another is too long,
The next one says his tool is weak,
another one's too strong.
One fellow asked me for waste
to wipe a plumber's cock,
and when I nearly fainted,
all he did was gawk.

A foreman looking 'round one day
for tools to cut a slot,
Said "Open up your drawers, girl,
and show me what you got."
Another came up to me
as I returned from lunch,
And asked me with a grin,
if I had seen his big prick punch.

And speaking of embarrassment,
never shall I forget,
The day the payman asked,
"Have you a monthly yet?"
Now how the hell was I to know
he meant my monthly check;
By the time they saved him,
I'd darned near broke his neck.

I hate to be a quitter,
folks will say I lack the guts,
But if I stay another day
this place will drive me nuts.
I really want to do my bit,
and that's no doggone bull
but you can have this tool room job;
I've got my belly full.
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