...And in Every Home |
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...And in Every Home Lyrics |
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 You turn to the sinister when you get the bootSliding down the banister in your Sunday suit Lying on a slag heap of blankets and magazines She`s only thirty-five going on seventeen You`d better roll over and go to sleep if you don`t come clean And in every home there will be lots of time I will be all yours you might have been admired (And in every home there will be lots of time) They say they`re very sorry but you are not desired Oh heaven preserve us Oh heaven preserve us Oh heaven preserve us Because they don`t deserve us Holding your life in your hand With an artificial limp wrist And so a young blade becomes a has-been Looking for a new twist A year after the wedding he broke all their china plates He`s in prison now she`s running with his mates Sees him every Sunday And he asks her where she`s been She`s only thirty-five going on seventeen She`s going to cop a packet if he ever finds her In between the sheets (chorus) |
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Top Artists - E |
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