| Mum, I know you’ll think I’m potty
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| But at last I think I’ve found him
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| He’s young but he’s mature
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| And you will love him I can tell
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| He says one day we’ll marry
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| And I don’t think I should rush him
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| But if he gets his skates on
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| We can have some kids as well
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| There are lots of things I miss, mum
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| No-one makes a normal sandwich
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| You need Goliath’s mouth to eat
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| The ones New Yorkers buy
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| I long to find a drink
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| That hasn’t got an ice cube in it
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| And for an English sausage
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| I swear I would gladly die
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| Anyway, as I was saying
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| He just can’t sit still a minute
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| He’s not like Neville Braithwaite
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| This one likes to dance all night
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| He does a lot of travelling
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| And when he goes I miss him
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| For once I think it’s safe to say
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| I’m doing something right. |