Oh my God you're a King
(Stephen Jones)
You said you were a queen,
but I looked under your dress then you were a king.
But I'm not choosy, I'm not choosy,
I'm not bruisy over this,
I'm not choosy, I'm not bruising over this.
You said you were a queen,
with the best of manners,
but I looked under your dress
and started to sing in a funny voice:
"Oh my god your a king,
oh my god your a king, oh my god your a king, your a king
Oh my god your a king,
oh my god your a king, oh my god your a king, your a king.
Hold my hand like a Jack in a pacamac under the rain.
Look into my eyes and I believe I'm a beautiful fella' with a big black umbrella.
I'll keep you out of the rain and keep your dress dry.
I won't tell anyone that you're a king.
Come with me, come with me, come with me onto the throne.
Come with me, come with me, come with me onto the throne.
Give you a trombone and you can drone away all you like nobody can complain or write about you.
Make your own noise, make your own toys, make everything you'd ever need, have your own garden, just enjoy life,
be your own king for a day.
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