Squeeze - F-hole Lyrics
(difford/tilbrook)I wrote her name on a bar matShe had a peculiar bonnet,But a youngish damsel figureWith her tongue tied to a trigger,She seemed a total killerHer face all filled with filler,Her face a painting paletteI stomached all her habits,Sipped her snow balls poshly like a judgeBut left her lipstick traces on her mug.We watched each other closelyShe looks like bela lugosi,She asked me for a ride homeI felt around for my comb,And in the bar room mirrorI combed right through her figure,She wiggled through the car parkInto the pit of my heart,Sat herself beside me in my vanA ring on every finger of her hand.She lived down by the riverA flat the council give her,Wallpaper very scenicHer outlook very beatnik,We watched the close and weatherThen through the door he entered,Short sleeves and arms of ironAnd me with just my tie on,She said the lodgers used to this by nowId handled all the bull but not the cow.Behind her velvet sofaI found myself back sober,She kept an old acousticShe never ever used it,A gift for me with a capoA six string with an f-hole,We made the strangest coupleA laurel and hardy double,I learnt to play her favourite country songsWith one or two chords always going wrong
