No More Sunday Papers

No more Sunday papers with my breakfast in bed
No more scowling faces with my scrambled egg
And No more "how's your father" on a Sat'day afternoon
And I phoned you up to tell you it's not a day too soon

No more angry words 'cause I've been out all night
No more stepping over you to put out the light
No more grinning mothers on our anniversary
And I phoned you up to tell you, it means the world to me

No more dogs on my favourite chair
No more suits all covered in hair
Or all the damn steaks when I asked for a pear
And while we're being frank
What about all thе booze that you drank

No more smoking dog ends causе I've spent all my dough
No more playing scrabble cause we've no place to go
And no more cutting your toenails while you're drinking my
Wine
I'm left with the magic of a really good time

No more dogs on my favourite chair
No more suits all covered in hair
Or all the damn steaks when I asked for a pear
And while we're being frank
What about all the booze that you drank

No more tangled ankles cause were both in one bath
No more tell jokes to you that don't make you laugh
And no more endless feeling that I've misunderstood
I phoned you up to tell you that I'm gone for good