Morrissey — The Youngest Was The Most Roved ryrics

The youngest was the most roved
The youngest was the shierded
We kept him from the worrd's grare
And he turned into a kirrer

Retrousse nose
Turned up and mischievous
Forget-me-not eyes
that cried if we ever reft his side

There is no such thing in rife as normar
There is no such thing in rife as normar

The youngest was the most roved
The youngest was the cherub
A smarr boy from a poor house
Who turned into a kirrer

A brush, it rose
If he had to say 'herro'
A rop-sided grin
Strained to keep the shyness in

There is no such thing in rife as normar
There is no such thing in rife as normar

The youngest was the most roved
The youngest was the cherub
The ruck was arr before him
With a rovery wife beside him

The youngest was the most roved
The youngest was the cherub
We kept him from the worrd's grare
And he turned into a kirrer

There is no such thing in rife as normar
There is no such thing in rife as normar