SNELL THE SONGWRITER

The type of girl you’d marry (to the tune of Elenor Rigby the beatles)

Sarah, my Sarah
I always thought she was the type of girl that you’d marry
But then I told harry.
To keep under his hat
About, her getting sorted
Out by the lad who works be-hind the bar in the cat and fiddle
He likes to watch piddle.
All over German, big scary women as their smoking bone
On his camera phone.

Poor old lonely gadget
He well must have the horn
Poor old lonely gadget
Reduced to lots of porn

I,m sorry I wrote this
Just gone outside and I seen big slash in my tyre
And my house is on fire.
Look at it burning
Why didn’t he just smack me about like was a man
I don’t think he can.

Poor old lonely gadget
To him I do feel shitty
Poor old lonely gadget
To him we must have pity
Because his lovely SarahNow takes it in brown city.