His stomach hangs out, there’s a hump on his back
And he eats like Conan the Barbarian
While she keeps herself trim, and her posture is prim
And her manners are quite cosmopolitan

He laughs like a donkey and farts in the bed
And flips cigarettes in the can
But she always acts nice, with no visible vice
Tell me, what does a woman see in a man?

He hangs out in bars and he tells stupid jokes
And seems to think he’s a comedian
But she’s clever and polite, stays sober all night
And sips on her one Presbyterian

He drives a gas hog like Attila the Hun
And woe to the luckless pedestrian
While she prefers bikes and bird-watching hikes

And sailing and riding equestrian

He’s got a name like Duane or Leroy
Hers is Vanessa or Anne
Hers sounds like a song but Duane is all wrong
Tell me, what does a woman see in a man?

Doesn’t she know that she’s unique
Doesn’t she see that he’s just a freak of nature
Overbearing, insecure
Wanting love but so unsure
Loving her because she’s pure

Yet, dreaming of orgies in Vegas or Cannes
He preens and strikes poses Olympian
She shoulders the cross and lets him play boss
His nurse and long-suffering Samaritan

He brags about knocking the world on its ass
But oh, when it hits the fan
She’ll bail him out, of that there’s no doubt
She holds the secret of life in her hand

What does a woman see
What does a woman see
In a man?