You're gonna lose that girl.

She sits upon the couch where he left her alone. He stormed off when she told him truthfully that she wasn't in the mood. She is reading. A call comes from the bedroom, where her boyfriend lay watching television. "Get some dinner cooking!"

You're gonna lose that girl.

She sighs and stands. He's not in all that bad a mood.

If you don't treat her right, my friend, you're gonna find her gone.

She walks into the kitchen and realizes it's far past due for a cleaning. "I thought you said you were going to clean the kitchen, dear?" she says, unsure, in that soft voice of hers. Even above the buzz of the television he hears her groan.
"The cleaning and cooking is you're job remember?" he shouts.

If you don't take her out tonight, she's gonna change her mind.

She carefully avoid the spilled milk on the floor and heads for the bedroom. Upon reaching the door, she carefully begins to turn the knob, stops, and then decides against it. Best not risk it. "What would you like for dinner, honey?" No answer. She enters the room cautiously only to find him caught up in a video game.

And I will take her out and I will treat her kind.

 She asks again and he waves it off, mumbling something or other. And she leaves. Shuts the door, grabs her bag, down the hall and out on to the streets.

The way you treat her, what else can I do?