Herbert

She was further than her father
But I was really rather
Partial to the way.
To the way she took her stand
She glanced over his shoulder
Urging me to be bolder
I subtly tried to push past her old man

But he stepped sideways firmly
A prop forward from Burnley
I felt like I'd walked into a brick wall
He menacingly whispered:
"Sonny Jim, I know exactly where you've been
Stop now or believe me - you will fall"

She was a preacher's daughter
A rugby playing porter
Who'd become a wealthy hotelier
Before he got the calling
That fuels his stonewalling
Now he wants to put me my derriere

Oh yeah, the wages of sin
There's a big fat bloke trying to do me in
Well I can't hide and I can't run
He's chasing me around with an old shotgun

Well it was some time later, that I overheard her pater
Holding forth and splendidly well oiled:
"Where there's muck there's brass
And I'll tell you now no lass
Of mine will be sullied or despoiled
By a rotten little Herbert
My princess made of sherbert
A lavender, my cupcake, coo ca choo"
My chance's getting slimmer
My hopes were going dimmer
So I grabbed her and I took her in the loo

She was a preaches daughter
And I really didn't oughta
Have taken her and done what I have done
He wants to take me to the cleaners
For previous misdemeanours
And get me up the aisle with his shotgun
And take me up the aisle with his shotgun

Oh yeah, the wages of sin
There's a big fat bloke trying to do me in
Well I can't hide and I can't run
He's chasing me around with an old shotgun

Yeah, yeah, the wages of sin
There's a big fat bloke trying to do me in
Well I can't hide and I can't run
He's chasing me around with an old shotgun

He's an antique shotgun



Credits
Writer(s): Graham Mcpherson, Michael Barson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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