If you’re a bad-tempered person

Filling your day full of spats,

There’s a phrase often used back in Ireland

You’d be known as a real ‘bag of cats’.

Do you get out the wrong side of bed in the morning?

And nothing ever seems to go your way?

With a perm’nent grimace etched firm on your face,

You spread misery to all through the day?

If you suspect it may be caused by your hormones

Because you’re at that ‘time of your life’ in your life,

May I suggest you seek help, if that is the case?

Be free, go get rid, ditch the strife.

Husband coming close to the end of his tether?

The surgery’s open at eight every day;

So go get the pills, be rid of your ills

Before he packs your bags and you’re sent on your way.