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   And slowly raise her knee   Don't marry her, fuck 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, 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 realize 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 realize you can't make it anyway   You have to wash the car   Take the kiddies to the park      Don't marry her, fuck me