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Don't Marry Her Karaoke - The Beautiful South

This title is a cover version of Don't Marry Her as made famous by The Beautiful South

Formats included:

CDG (MP3+G)
MP4
KFN
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The CDG format (also called CD+G or MP3+G) is suitable for most karaoke machines. It includes an MP3 file and synchronized lyrics (Karaoke Version only sells digital files (MP3+G) and you will NOT receive a CD).

This universal format works with almost any device (Windows, Mac, iPhone, iPad, Android, Connected TVs...)

This format is suitable for KaraFun Player, a free karaoke software. It allows you to turn on or off the backing vocals, lead vocals, and change the pitch or tempo.

Your purchase allows you to download your video as often as you prefer, and in all of these formats.

About

With backing vocals (with or without vocals in the KFN version)

Tempo: variable (around 100 BPM)

In the same key as the original: C

Duration: 03:22 - Sample at: 01:31

EXPLICIT LYRICS

Release date: 1996
Genres: Pop, Rock, In English
Original songwriter: Paul Heaton, David Ricardo Rotheray

All files available for download are backing tracks, they're not the original music.

Lyrics Don't Marry Her

Think of you with pipe and slippers think of her in bed
Laying there just watching telly think of me instead
I'll never grow so old and flabby that could never be don't marry her, fuck me
And your love life shines like cardboard but your work shoes are glistening
She's a PhD in "I told you so"
You've a knighthood in "I'm not listening"
She'll grab your sweaty bollocks then slowly raise her knee don't marry her, fuck me
When the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay
And you realise you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car take the kiddies to the park don't marry her, fuck me
Those lovely Sunday mornings with breakfast brought in bed
Those blackbirds look like knitting needles trying to peck your head
Those birds will peck your soul out and throw away the key don't marry her, fuck me
And the kitchen's always tidy and the bathroom's always clean
She's a diploma in "just hiding things"
You've a first in low esteem
When your socks smell of angels but your life smells of brie don't marry her, fuck me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay
And you realise you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car take the kiddies to the park don't marry her, fuck me
And the Sunday sun shines down on San Francisco bay
And you realise you can't make it anyway
You have to wash the car take the kiddies to the park don't marry her, fuck me

Any reproduction is prohibited

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