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, $#&@ me

And your love light shines like cardboard

But your work shoes are glistening
She's a Ph.D 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, $#&@ 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, $#&@ 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, $#&@ 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, $#&@ 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, $#&@ 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, $#&@ me