When I’m finished, through with you
When I’m finished, through with you
Written by Stan Burt
When I’m finished, through with youThey’ll be nothing you can do
The dish won’t run away with the spoon
Mills won’t be a boon
The cat won’t get the cream
God won’t save the queen
Every heart won’t have a home
The millennium won’t have a dome
You wont be pleased as pie
Pigs will start to fly
Every queen won’t be a drag
Tig won’t follow tag
Beehives won’t have bees
Jumpers won’t have sleeves
Stamps will not be licked
Noses won’t be picked
Camera’s won’t go flash
Sausage won’t go with mash
Gold fish won’t have bowls
Dancers won’t have poles
Ice cream won’t have cones
Mobiles won’t be phones
Billy will have a mate
Britain won’t be great
Ping won’t have the pong
Ding won’t have the dong
I’ll make matchsticks out of men
I’ll be dirtier than den
I’ll count my chickens before they hatch
I’ll stand on all the cracks
Mole hills will be made of mountains
We’ll all reel around the fountains.
Cos when I’m finished, through with you
You might love me too