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i'm not going to sit here and lie and list |
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all the many ways |
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about how i will supposedly love you |
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till the end of days. |
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because i think that we both know in twenty eight |
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and a half years time |
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that i won't be yours and you probably won't be mine. |
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but yesterday, today and probably tomorrow, |
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this little one will find it hard to find sorrow. |
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yesterday, today and probably tomorrow. |
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middleton to withington, middleton and back, |
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is more than enough to make |
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the average middletonian crack. |
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so i will stand outside the travelodge |
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and bite my tongue, |
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your best friends look me up and done |
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and i'll write the song. |
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yesterday, today and probably tomorrow |
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this little one will find it hard to find sorrow. |
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yesterday, today and probably tomorrow. |
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will they be there on tuesday nights, |
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running the bath and turning out the lights? |
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will they be there on thursday afternoons, |
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to welcome you home from euston platform eight |
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heart shaped balloons? no. |
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yesterday, today and probably tomorrow. |
