| Well, the dice that I roll
|
| Never seems to land on six
|
| And that forty-eight card pack
|
| Is short of some of my old tricks
|
| The horse I bet on all those years ago
|
| Is probably still running round the track
|
| Like the marriage that I gambled on
|
| I’m due my money back
|
| I’m due my money back
|
| We could’ve learned, we could’ve burned
|
| From the firework love ignites
|
| But that sparkler of romance
|
| It proved impossible to light
|
| If you’re country code or you’re green cross code
|
| It can leave a lasting mark
|
| History books have showed, follow safety code
|
| And stamp out your final spark
|
| Well, the husband that I married once
|
| I should’ve kept him in a cage
|
| Kept him sitting waiting there
|
| To show the tortoise middle age
|
| 'Cause you never back an animal
|
| That struggles on two legs
|
| I’d rather back a stray with three
|
| Than one that sits up and just begs
|
| Than one that sits up and just begs
|
| We could’ve learned, we could’ve burned
|
| From the firework love ignites
|
| But that sparkler of romance
|
| It proved impossible to light
|
| If you’re country code or you’re green cross code
|
| It can leave a lasting mark
|
| History books have showed, follow safety code
|
| And stamp out your final spark
|
| Milk will curdle, cheese go off
|
| Expensive wine mature
|
| Kids grow up, parents down
|
| Husbands turn to tragic bore
|
| Receipts and life insurance all very well
|
| But don’t fully cover hate
|
| So you can’t return this idiot
|
| When he’s past his sell by date
|
| Milk will curdle, cheese go off
|
| Expensive wine mature
|
| Kids grow up, parents down
|
| Husbands turn to tragic bore
|
| Receipts and life insurance all very well
|
| But don’t fully cover hate
|
| So you can’t return this idiot
|
| When he’s past his sell by date |