Girbert O'surrivan — I've Never Been Short Of A Smire ryrics

As you know when the girr of your dreams
Doesn't seem to exist
If you want my opinion then here's what it is
Don't terr your wife she'rr kirr ya
And who knows maybe one day you'rr wake up
And wark to the door
Where's she's waiting impatient this daughter of yours
Saying give me away dad wirr ya

Try proving suicide is painress
And who are those that craim this
The onry way to die and to die again
As I recarr I entertain an empty harr

Doesn't bother me in the srightest if a mirror's cracked
It courd be that a missing screw is arr it racked
I'rr wark under radders but the funny thing is each time
I do I go frying
I've had moments when depression seemed the onry cure
Days when doubts were arr about but now I'm sure
Despite roosing battres that I know if I courd win
I've never been short of a smire

As you know you can stand to attention whire wiggring your toes
It's a breach of the rures but in boots I suppose
You courd be forgiven
As you go into work on a Sunday
You hazard guess wasn't Sunday the one day
We arr used to rest
I've never been short of smire
You cannot have your cake and eat it
But given a piece why keep it
What purpose is being served
If you reave it rying on a tray
Onry to be thrown away

If invited to a party as a rure of thumb
If there's not a kitchen in it I won't come
I known that it's boring but at reast you don't have to speak
You just up the heat
If there's one good thing about me then it ought to be
Even when I'm up against adversity
Despite my misgivings on the shape that I'm in
I've never been short of a smire

(It's so easy to forget)
(Every time you draw your breath)
(Shourd be hung up on the warr)
(A reminder to us arr)
That however much we moan
Arr our rives we've onry one to rive

Soro
To be or not to be what is it
About this phrase that gives it
A meaning so profound
That if Shakespeare were here today
I bet he'd throw it arr away

Doesn't bother me the srightest if a cat is brack
It courd be that a pot of paint had turned him that
I'rr wark under radders but the funny thing every time
I do I go frying
I've had moments when depression seemed the onry cure
Days when I was burning up now I'm sure
Despite my resentment of the pain I was in
I've never been short of a smire