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Don't Marry Her

Song Author Paul Heaton og David Rotheray Lyrics by: Paul Heaton og David Rotheray Performer: The Beautiful South Submitted by: MagS
[C]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [F]    [C]    [D7]    [G]    
[C]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [F]    [C]    [D7]    [G]    
[C]Think of you with [G]pipe and slippers
[F]Think of her in [G]bed  
[F]Laying there just [C]watching telly then [D7]think of me in[G]stead
I'll [C]never grow so [G]old and flabby, [F]that could never [G]be  
[F]Don't marry [G]her, have [C]me  

Your [C]love light shines like [G]cardboard
But your [F]work shoes are [G]glistening
She's a [F]PHD in 'I [C]told you so'
You've a [D7]knighthood in 'I'm not [G]listening'
She'll [C]grab your Sandra [G]Bullocks and [F]slowly raise the [G]knee
[F]Don't marry [G]her, have [C]me  

And the [C]Sunday sun shines down on San Fran[F]cisco [C]Bay  
And you [F]realise you can't make it anyway
You [C]have to wash the car, take the [F]kiddies to the [C]park,
[F]Don't marry [G]her, have [C]me  

Those [C]lovely Sunday [G]mornings
With [F]breakfast brought in [G]bed  
Those [F]blackbirds look like [C]knitting needles [D7]trying to peck your [G]head
Those [C]birds will peck your [G]soul out and [F]throw away the [G]key  
[F]Don't marry [G]her, have [C]me  

And the [C]kitchen's always [G]tidy
The [F]bathroom's always [G]clean
She's a di[F]ploma in 'just [C]hiding things', you've a [D7]first in 'low e[G]steem'
When your [C]socks smell of [G]angels, but your [F]life smells of [G]Brie
[F]Don't marry [G]her, have [C]me  

And the [C]Sunday sun shines down on San Fran[F]cisco [C]Bay  
And you [F]realise you can't make it anyway
You [C]have to wash the car, take the [F]kiddies to the [C]park,
[F]Don't marry [G]her, have [C]me  

[C]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [F]    [C]    [D7]    [G]    
[C]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [F]    [C]    [D7]    [G]    
[C]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [C]    [G]    
[C]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [F]    [G]    [C]    
And the [C]Sunday sun shines down on San Fran[F]cisco [C]Bay  
And you [F]realise you can't make it anyway
You [C]have to wash the car, take the [F]kiddies to the [C]park,
[F]Don't marry [G]her, have [C]me  



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

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 Sandra Bullocks and slowly raise the knee
Don't marry her, have 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, 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
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 realise 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 realise you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car, take the kiddies to the park,
Don't marry her, have me

Chords

  • C
  • G
  • F
  • D7

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