Elvis Costello - "in Every Home" lyrics

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
Shes only thirty-five going on seventeen
Youd better roll over and go to sleep if you dont come clean

And in every home there will be lots of time

(and in every home there will be lots of time)

I will be all yours you might have been admired

They say theyre very sorry but you are not desired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us

Oh heaven preserve us

Because they dont deserve us

Holding your life in your hand

With an artificial limp wrist

Looking for a new twist
And so a young blade becomes a has-been

A year after the wedding he broke all their china plates

Hes in prison now shes running with his mates

Sees him every sunday

And he asks her where shes been

Shes only thirty-five going on seventeen

Shes going to cop a packet if he ever finds her

In between the sheets

(chorus)