Weak Little Woman

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I speak for poor little woman —
Please do not turn away;
Oh, mighty man, do what you can,
Our misery to allay.
Just think how it makes us suffer
To watch a procession go past,
And not have a right to march half the night
And bring home a package at last.
You give us lovely pearls in strings,
You buy us rings and other things;
I've even heard of wealthy chaps,
Who go as far as sable wraps.
But when for ballots we insist,
We'd rather not be hugged and kissed;
Tho' once a little house-hold pet,
I'm now a fighting suffragette.

I plead for weak little woman —
She's but a captive bird;
Tho' called a wife, locked up for life,
She never dares say a word;
I plead for down-trodden woman,
The slave of a tyrant called man;
He loves her so much, he'll stand for a touch,
But keeps her at home — if he can.
You've petted us, you've fondled us,
When you see us you make a fuss,
You've crowned us as the queens of earth
You've blown yourselves for all you're worth;
But darn the diadem on my brow!
I want a vote and want it now;
And you can't smother my regrets
With motor cars and violets.

Shoulder to shoulder, sisters!
Wait for emancipation day!
Fight for the right, until the light
Drives ev'ry cloud away!
Shoulder to shoulder, sisters!
Up with the flying petticoat!
Stand by your gun, man's on the run,
You've got a right to vote!

© George Ade