Written
Editing
Sound
The future
Mrs.
Heaton won't need a
Wonderbra
She'll be baskin' on a sun lounger,
smokin' fat cigar
The future
Mrs.
Heaton won't trouble herself with bills
She won't need no alcohol,
a constant flow of pills
She'll be turning up at bingo
with her missing flashy car
Losing at the slot machines,
but eat ing caviar
I'll make sure that I love you
Like the star you actually are
Not like all those broken promises,
or this beaten up old car
Oh, when your head's
in your hands now
An d your nose down on the bar
I'll be your white
Russian kid,
an d I'll rescue you like son.
The fu ture
Mr.
Abbott won't have to go to bank
He'll lean right back, he'll drink a beer
Mrs.
Abbott, the future
Mr.
Abbott
Trouble he'll be not
With all the kisses and all the loving
Mrs.
Abbott's got
Voices will fill the air
With con versation and good song
And really, will we disagree?
And nev er will we wrong
I'll make sure that I love you
Like the star you actually are
Not like all those broken promises
Or this beaten up old car
And when your head's
in your hands now
An d your nose down on the bar
I'll be your
White
Russian
Queen
An d I'll rescue you like a song
The future,
Mrs.
Heaton, won't go out in
She'll go out in her stocking fit,
exactly how she fits
I'll make sure that I love you
Like the star you actually are
Not like all those broken promises
Or this beaten up old car
An d when your head's
in your hands now
An d your nose down on the bar
I'll be your white
Rus sian king
And I'll rescue you like
Zod