She comes in the back door around nine o'clock She changes right into her red paisley smock She's dusting and polishing, the shmutz goes away I know she'll go too by the end of the day She bends down and wipes underneath every door She reaches and bleaches the whole kitchen floor I know that she's leaving at quarter to three Maybe I'll spill something, she'll stay longer with me She's my Wednesday balabusta She's my Tuesday Weld My June Cleaver She's my once-a-week balabusta And I'm weak in the knees Watching her clean Her phone rings, she's speaking in words I don't know I'm hoping he's telling her it's time for him to go The thought of her with me, I'm starting to shvitz Maybe I'll order those tapes from Berlitz She's hungry, she stops for a Nutrisystem drink She's perfect but she doesn't know what I think I should get another place that's not too far away Maybe she'll give me an extra day She's my Wednesday balabusta She's my Sunday bride My May flower She's my once-a-week balabusta And I wish that she'd Vacuum me in She picks up the money, she's waving good-bye I'm smiling but inside I'm starting to cry I keep things too tidy, so she'll like me too I really should give her some more things to do I'm shivering, I found it, it's something she wrote I need Ajax and Clorox, it's all in the note It's her way of telling me she'll see me again I'm happy I don't have to wonder when She's my Wednesday balabusta A mid-week mitzvah The place is spotless She's my once-a-week balabusta And I'll see her again Next week