My Handy Man Songtext
von Ethel Waters

Whoever said a good man was hard to find,
Postively, absolutely sure was blind;
I found the best that ever was,
Here′s just some of the things he does:

He shakes my ashes, greases my griddle,
Churns my butter, strokes my fiddle;
My man is such a handy man!

He threads my needle, creams my wheat,
Heats my heater, chops my meat;
My man is such a handy man!

Don't care if you believe or not,
He sure is good to have around;
Why, when my furnace gets too hot,
He′s right there to turn my damper down!


For everything he's got a scheme;
You ought to see his new starter that he uses on my machine;
My man is such a handy man!

He flaps my flapjacks, cleans off the table, He feeds the horses in my stable; My man is such a handy man!

He's God′s gift!

Sometimes he′s up long before dawn,
Busy trimming the rough edges off my lawn;
Oooh, you can't get away from it! He′s such a handy man!

Never has a single thing to say,
While he's working hard;
I wish that you could see the way
He handles my front yard!

My ice don′t get a chance to melt away,
He sees that I get that old fresh piece every day;
Lord, that man sure is such a handy man!