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Lyrics for ...And in Every Home by Elvis Costello:
| | | Artist: | Elvis Costello |
| | Album: | Unknown | | Track: | ...And in Every Home | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 76 | | | | Lyrics: | You turn to the sinister when you get the boot
Sliding down the banister in your Sunday
suit
Lying on a slag heap of blankets and magazines
She's only thirty-five going on
seventeen
You'd better roll over and go to sleep if you don't come clean
And in every
home there will be lots of time
I will be all yours you might have been admired
(And in
every home there will be lots of time)
They say they're very sorry but you are not
desired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Because
they don't deserve us
Holding your life in your hand
With an artificial limp
wrist
And so a young blade becomes a has-been
Looking for a new twist
A year after
the wedding he broke all their china plates
He's in prison now she's running with his
mates
Sees him every Sunday
And he asks her where she's been
She's only thirty-five
going on seventeen
She's going to cop a packet if he ever finds her
In between the
sheets
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