Heartfelt Goodbyes..
We didn’t click.
Let’s make it quick
And say goodbye. Don’t hold my hand,
And don’t demand a reason why,
No loving looks, no fond regards.
Tonight was always on the cards.
I like big muscles. You were thin and lanky.
I like nice manners. You were far too cranky.
You blew your nose and then looked in your hanky.
It would never have worked.
The day I met you was a real heart-wrencher.
I thought that love would be a big adventure,
Then I saw the spinach on your bottom denture.
it would never have worked.
I wanted champagne and oysters,
Because that’s the way I am.
You gave me Vimto, tinned carrots
And Spam.
Rapport’s a thing you just can’t manufacture.
You had your pin-up girl, I couldn’t match her.
I didn’t want to: it was Mrs Thatcher.
Things would never have worked.
I wanted love to come and knock our blocks off.
But even Venus takes her card and clocks off.
Your idea of foreplay was to take your socks off.
It would never have worked.
I wanted moonlight and roses
And all that silly tosh.
You wanted gerbils, a whippet,
A wash.
I wanted love poems but you couldn’t write them,
My ear lobes nibbled but you wouldn’t bite them.
You’d only fart and then attempt to light them.
It would never have worked.
We’re not compatible. Let’s not get blue, dear.
At least we see each other’s point of view, dear.
I like big hunky men, and so do you, dear.
It would never have worked.
Victoria Wood.
Let’s make it quick
And say goodbye. Don’t hold my hand,
And don’t demand a reason why,
No loving looks, no fond regards.
Tonight was always on the cards.
I like big muscles. You were thin and lanky.
I like nice manners. You were far too cranky.
You blew your nose and then looked in your hanky.
It would never have worked.
The day I met you was a real heart-wrencher.
I thought that love would be a big adventure,
Then I saw the spinach on your bottom denture.
it would never have worked.
I wanted champagne and oysters,
Because that’s the way I am.
You gave me Vimto, tinned carrots
And Spam.
Rapport’s a thing you just can’t manufacture.
You had your pin-up girl, I couldn’t match her.
I didn’t want to: it was Mrs Thatcher.
Things would never have worked.
I wanted love to come and knock our blocks off.
But even Venus takes her card and clocks off.
Your idea of foreplay was to take your socks off.
It would never have worked.
I wanted moonlight and roses
And all that silly tosh.
You wanted gerbils, a whippet,
A wash.
I wanted love poems but you couldn’t write them,
My ear lobes nibbled but you wouldn’t bite them.
You’d only fart and then attempt to light them.
It would never have worked.
We’re not compatible. Let’s not get blue, dear.
At least we see each other’s point of view, dear.
I like big hunky men, and so do you, dear.
It would never have worked.
Victoria Wood.