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December 5th, 2008

10:59 AM

Don't Marry Her by The Beautiful South

This is the radio-friendly version of this cheeky song about a woman telling a man that he will die if he end up in a relationship with anyone else but her. In the original version, it's "Don't marry her - fuck me!" instead of "Don't marry her - have me!"

Don't Marry Her
Performed by: The Beautiful South
Words by: Paul Heaton and Dave Hemingway

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 have 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 have 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 have 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 have 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 have 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 have 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 have me

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