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Don't Marry Her
Beautiful South

BEAUTIFUL SOUTH


Don't Marry Her Lyrics

Think of you with pipe and slippers
Think of her in bed
Laying there just watching telly
Think of me instead

I'll never grow so old and flabby
That could never be
Don't marry her, f*ck me

And 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 sweaty bollocks
And slowly raise her knee
Don't marry her, f*ck me

And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you realize you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park

Don't marry her, f*ck 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, f*ck me

And the kitchen's always tidy
And 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, f*ck me

And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you realize you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park

Don't marry her, f*ck me

And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you realize you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park

Don't marry her, f*ck me

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these lyrics are last corrected by Eloise
Songwriter(s): Paul Heaton, Dave Rotheray
Record Label(s): 1996 Go Discs Ltd
Official lyrics by

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