Weekend Fixtures

Tudor women always bring me down
What a waste of hygiene
Save me from the memories of my weakened ego
Those Tudor women will eat me alive
My helpless feet always drag me to town
One little taste of the high life
Save me from the memories of that endless summer

Travelling on
And passing by
Oh, what was it
With weekend fixtures?

Old woman, what do you want from me
One more chance at the good life?
I'll save you from the memories of your weakened mind
Those Tudor women will eat you alive
Life has been one big Strauss waltz
But what comes next when that dance is done?
Save me from the memories of that endless summer

Travelling on
And passing by
Oh, what was it
With weekend fixtures?

What could it be
And where did she go?
Oh, what was it
With weekend fixtures?



Credits
Writer(s): Stephen Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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