Artist - The Beautiful South
Song - Dont Marry Her
Album - "Blue Is The Colour"
Intro
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Think of you with pipe and slippers
Think of her in bed
Laying there just watching telly then think of me instead
I'll never grow so old and flabby, that could never be
Don't marry her, have me
Your love light shines like cardboard
But your work shoes are glistening
She's a PHD in 'I told you so'
You've a knighthood in 'I'm not listening'
She'll grab your Sandra Bullocks and slowly raise the knee
Don't marry her, have me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you realise you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car, take the kiddies to the park,
Don't marry her, have me
Those lovely Sunday mornings
With breakfast brought in bed
Those blackbirds look like knitting needles trying to peck your head
Those birds will peck your soul out and throw away the key
Don't marry her, have me
And the kitchen's always tidy
The bathroom's always clean
She's a diploma in 'just hiding things', you've a first in 'low esteem'
When your socks smell of angels, but your life smells of Brie
Don't marry her, have me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you realise you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car, take the kiddies to the park,
Don't marry her, have me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you realise you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car, take the kiddies to the park,
Don't marry her, have me