| Well, there’s a feeling in your stomach
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| A light trembling at the knees
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| Not even knowing who the lucky fellow might be
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| Bridesmaids are cleaning the court-house bell
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| Horse-driven carriages wait patiently in hell
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| Happiness has been arranged for some time in July
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| Invitations have been sent, I’m so bitter I could cry
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| Congratulations flown in from a long-lost friend
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| For the big occasion regretting that he can’t attend
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| And as family tradition is busy making up your mind
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| Gallantly standing draped in his holy shroud
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| God’s representative mumbles to a tearful crowd
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| I now pronounce you
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| I now pronounce you
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| Mother, Father, wake up, you’ve overlooked one thing
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| The daughter you’ve planned for four years
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| Won’t get to wear your ring
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| Instead she’ll be running off into the dark of night
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| Straight into the hungry arms that long to hold her tight
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| And as family tradition is busy making up your mind
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| Gallantly standing draped in his holy shroud
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| God’s representative mumbles to a tearful crowd
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| I now pronounce you
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| I now pronounce you
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| There’s a feeling deep inside of you, a feeling that of ease
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| You’re the sweetest thing that could ever happen for me
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| The bridesmaids are ringing the court-house bell
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| Horse-driven carriages try to cover streets to tell
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| And as family tradition is busy making up your mind
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| Gallantly standing draped in his holy shroud
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| God’s representative mumbles to a tearful crowd
|
| I now pronounce you
|
| I now pronounce you
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| I now pronounce you
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| I now pronounce you |