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Lyrics
Oh brother
It feels like it's a Monday every day
This steam is going to melt my life away
Scrub, scrub, that's all I do
I sometimes wonder what I'm coming to
There ain't no cure for the washday blues
The clothes go out, those clothes keep coming in
Carbolic's going to get beneath my skin
Scrub, scrub, that's all I do
I sometimes wonder what I'm coming to
There ain't no cure for the washday blues
Bedsheets hanging on the line
A sailing ship to take me home
But I know I'll be here forever now
So long ago, so long ago
My brow will sweat, the mangle's gonna turn
On thirty-third and third that's where I'll earn
And it's scrub, scrub, that's all I do
I sometimes wonder what I'm coming to
There ain't no cure for the washday blues
Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub
Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub
I'm up to me oxters in a Belfast sink
(Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub)
I traded all my looks for smokes and drink
(Rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub, rub-a-dub)
Ans it's scrub, scrub, that's all I do
Oh bloody hell what have I to
There ain't no cure for the washday blues
Bedsheets hanging on the line
A sailing ship to take me home
But I know I'll be here forever now
So long ago, so long ago
No, there ain't no cure for the washday blues
Those washday blues
Ain't no cure for the washday blues
There ain't no cure for the washday blues
Those washday blues
Those washday blues
Those washday blues
Writer(s): Peter Wilson, Boo Hewerdine
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