paroles de chanson 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
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
Then
slowly
raise
her
knee
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
Those
lovely
Sunday
mornings
With
breakfast
brought
in
bed
Those
blackbirds
look
like
knitting
needles
Tryna
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
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