| You know I love you, oh, my darling; |
| you know I love to tell you it
|
| You know I’d die for you, my sweetheart; |
| I hesitate to stir the shit
|
| I know you’re kind, I know you’re generous; |
| and on your shoulder,
|
| there’s no chip
|
| Its just a small thing, oh, my darling; |
| your very presence makes me sick
|
| Your compassion is unequalled; |
| I’m worthy not your boots to lick
|
| You are an angel, pure and simple; |
| for your presence I’m not fit
|
| You really do deserve a husband; |
| caring, young and kind and rich
|
| You’re so witty and so charming; |
| you put to shame those country hicks
|
| It’s just a small thing, oh, my darling; |
| your very presence makes me sick |