This was her first time getting married, no one showed her the ropes
She was the daughter of the taxidermist, fond of the pope
Her father wants to get her pretty head right up on display
So he can nail her to a plinth and bring her out every christmas day

With skin made of tarpaulin
She was done with fooling
She wasn’t one for blending in
And when her dad’s complaining
It suddenly starts raining
Darling, get the washing in

This was the last time she’d be smothered by the family name
And the traveller man she loves says he will take her away 
But she’s the trophy of her father and she’ll do as she’s told
He’ll embalm her in a solution so she’ll never grow old

At 20 past the hour
She could leave the tower
But daddy’s got a rolling pin
Like a dying flower
Withered by his powers
She lets the rot kick in

But when she dreams, she’s out of reach
She’s at the palais by the beach
And she’s dancing just like no-one else is there
Ahhh, strewth!!

And now she’s packing up her things in a handkerchief
She’s gonna run away to London with her husband to be 
And if her father tries to meddle with her private affairs
She’ll tell the village that he keeps her mother under the stairs

With skin made from tarpaulin
She was done with fooling
She wasn’t one for blending in
Living like a pauper
The taxidermist’s daughter
Darling, get the washing in

British Racing Green

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