MY SONGS

No return adress

I've got a friend he's around the bend
he sends me letters
without a start or an end.
His girls a fruit with loads of loot
the root of her problem
is her choice of men.

No P.S. or yours faithfully
no hugs or kisses
more or less,
No deary me or hey you
no date and no return address.

They live alone they're not on the phone
they live in a glasshouse
so they don't throw stones.
My girls she's a trollop who loves to gossip
she needs a doctor
but so does Sherlock Holmes.

Out of 10 I'd give her one
but her choice of men I'd rather shun.

Now without a clue sniffing one second glue
they live in a cage
somewhere in the zoo.
Everything went wrong her moneys all gone
I'm safe at last
receiving no more letters from you.

Musik: David
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