"Seven Little Girls Sitting in the Back Seat" by Paul Evans and the Curls from the album Seven Little Girls Sitting in the Back Seat / Worshipping an Idol. 1959.
The ultimate song of cuckoldry. Not exactly the most desirable claim to fame. Perhaps most surprising is that a song from the 50s earns the title. I don't think any song recorded since comes close to the level of humiliation and emasculation described, though "Venus in Furs" (by the Velvet Underground, chump!) comes close with its springboard off the book (which would certainly win out the competition, if only 'twas in song form). Some would say I've gone too far with the claim, what with the tune's sugary sweet sound feigning some sort of innocence. Don't be fooled, I reply! The Velvet Underground may ace the proper ambiance, but I say Paul Evans went too far when he put not one- not two- but SEVEN little girls in the backseat, kissing and a-huggin' with Fred. Ignoring the 'little' descriptor for you literalists, keep in mind that minivans (not yet a family standard in the song's era) evoke the seven-passenger image-- with one up front! So basically, our sad narrator chauffeurs an orgy around the town in a wheeled sardine-can with every feeble attempt to quit or join rebuffed by the girls themselves. Not even Jon Arbuckle puts up with that kinda embarrassment!
