(heaton/rotheray)
Think of you with pipe and slippers
Think of her in bed
Laying there just watching telly
Then think of me instead

Ill never grow so old and flabby
That could never be
Dont marry her, fuck me

And your love light shines like cardboard
But your work shoes are glistening
Shes a phd in I told you so
Youve a knighthood in Im not listening

Shell grab your sweaty bollocks
Then slowly raise her knee
Dont marry her, fuck me

And the sunday sun shines down on san francisco bay
And you realise you cant make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Dont 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
Dont marry her, fuck me

And the kitchens always tidy
And the bathrooms always clean
Shes a diploma in just hiding things
Youve a first in low esteem

When your socks smell of angels
But your life smells of brie
Dont marry her, fuck me

And the sunday sun shines down on san francisco bay
And you realise you cant make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Dont marry her, fuck me

And the sunday sun shines down on san francisco bay
And you realise you cant make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Dont marry her, fuck me

Send "Don’t Marry Her" Ringtone to your Cell