In regards to the meaning of this song:
Before a live performance on the EP Five Stories Falling, Geoff states “It’s about the last time I went to visit my grandmother in Columbus, and I saw that she was dying and it was the last time I was going to see her. It is about realizing how young you are, but how quickly you can go.”
That’s the thing about Geoff and his sublime poetry, you think it’s about one thing, but really it’s about something entirely different. But the lyrics are still universal and omnipresent, ubiquitous, even. So relatable. That’s one thing I love about this band. I also love their live performances, raw energy and Geoff’s beautiful, imperfectly perfect vocals. His voice soothes my aching soul.
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, fuck me
And 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 sweaty bollocks
Then slowly raise her knee
Don't marry her, fuck me
When the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you know that you can't have it anyway
You gotta wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Don't marry her, fuck 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, fuck me
And the kitchen's always tidy
And 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, fuck me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay
And you realize you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Don't marry her, fuck me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay
And you realize you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Don't marry her, fuck me
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, fuck me
And 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 sweaty bollocks
Then slowly raise her knee
Don't marry her, fuck me
When the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco Bay
And you know that you can't have it anyway
You gotta wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Don't marry her, fuck 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, fuck me
And the kitchen's always tidy
And 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, fuck me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay
And you realize you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Don't marry her, fuck me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay
And you realize you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car
Take the kiddies to the park
Don't marry her, fuck me
Lyrics submitted by Forevergreen
Don't Marry Her Lyrics as written by Paul Heaton Dave Rotheray
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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never heard the censored version, but i love this song so much. I kinda agree with blueizlagirl. The two women could be the same. Either way, its a great song.