Karaoké Don't Marry Her The Beautiful South

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, fuck me

And your love life 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 then slowly raise her knee don't marry her, fuck me

When 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, fuck 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, fuck 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, fuck 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, fuck 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, fuck me