It Would Never Have Worked
It's over, we've missed the bus,
A nice idea, but not for us;
We didn't click, let's make it quick
And say goodbye;
Don't hold my hand and don't demand
A reason why...
No loving looks... No fond regards...
Tonight, was always on the cards...
I like big muscles, you were thin and lanky;
I like nice manners, you were far too cranky;
You blew your nose and then looked in your hanky;
Things would never have worked.
Your taste in furniture was far to spartan;
Your sense of humour was to kindergaten;
Your tatoo'd bottom, who thought of tartan?
Things would never have worked.
I wanted champagne and oysters,
'Cos that's the way I am;
You gave me Vimto... tinned carrots...
And spam.
Rapport's a thing you just can't manufacture;
You had an ideal girl... I couldn't match her;
I didn't want to, it was Mrs Thatcher;
Things would never have worked.
I wanted love to come and knock our blocks off;
But even Venus takes her card and clocks off;
Your idea of foreplay was to take your socks off;
Things would never have worked.
I wanted moonlight, roses,
And all that silly tosh;
You wanted gerbils... A whippet...
A wash.
I wanted love poems, but you couldn't write them;
My earlobes nibbled, but you wouldn't bite them;
You'd only fart and then attempt to light them;
Things would never have worked.
We're not compatible, let's not get blue, dear;
At least we see each other's point of view, dear;
I like big hunky men, and so do you dear;
Things would never have worked!
A nice idea, but not for us;
We didn't click, let's make it quick
And say goodbye;
Don't hold my hand and don't demand
A reason why...
No loving looks... No fond regards...
Tonight, was always on the cards...
I like big muscles, you were thin and lanky;
I like nice manners, you were far too cranky;
You blew your nose and then looked in your hanky;
Things would never have worked.
Your taste in furniture was far to spartan;
Your sense of humour was to kindergaten;
Your tatoo'd bottom, who thought of tartan?
Things would never have worked.
I wanted champagne and oysters,
'Cos that's the way I am;
You gave me Vimto... tinned carrots...
And spam.
Rapport's a thing you just can't manufacture;
You had an ideal girl... I couldn't match her;
I didn't want to, it was Mrs Thatcher;
Things would never have worked.
I wanted love to come and knock our blocks off;
But even Venus takes her card and clocks off;
Your idea of foreplay was to take your socks off;
Things would never have worked.
I wanted moonlight, roses,
And all that silly tosh;
You wanted gerbils... A whippet...
A wash.
I wanted love poems, but you couldn't write them;
My earlobes nibbled, but you wouldn't bite them;
You'd only fart and then attempt to light them;
Things would never have worked.
We're not compatible, let's not get blue, dear;
At least we see each other's point of view, dear;
I like big hunky men, and so do you dear;
Things would never have worked!
Credits
Writer(s): Victoria Wood
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.