Elvis Costello - ...And in Every Home Lyrics

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You turn to the sinister when you get the boot 
Sliding down the banister in your Sunday suit 
Lying on a slag heap of blankets and magazines 
She's only thirty-five going on seventeen 
You'd better roll over and go to sleep if you don't come clean 
And in every home there will be lots of time 
I will be all yours you might have been admired 
(And in every home there will be lots of time) 
They say they're very sorry but you are not desired 
Oh heaven preserve us 
Oh heaven preserve us 
Oh heaven preserve us 
Because they don't deserve us 

Holding your life in your hand 
With an artificial limp wrist 
And so a young blade becomes a has-been 
Looking for a new twist 

A year after the wedding he broke all their china plates 
He's in prison now she's running with his mates 
Sees him every Sunday 
And he asks her where she's been 
She's only thirty-five going on seventeen 
She's going to cop a packet if he ever finds her 
In between the sheets 

(chorus)

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lyrics submitted on 28-06-2005
lyrics corrected on 28-06-2005