Great Lyrics... Part 3

The Beautiful South are a sick and morbid bunch. Really, they are. Here's proof... a selection of lyrics from some of their brilliant songs:

The perfect love song, it has no words, it only has death threats
And you can tell a classic ballad by how threatening it gets
So if you walk into your house and she's cutting up your mother
She's only trying to tell you that she loves you like no other

The perfect kiss is dry as sand and doesn't take your breath
The perfect kiss is with the boy that you've just stabbed to death

***

He was just a social drinker but social every night
He enjoyed a pint or two or three or four
She was just a silent thinker, silent every night
He'd enjoy the thought of killing her before

Well he was very rarely drunk but very rarely sober
And he didn't think the problem was his drink
But he only knew his problem when he knocked her over
And when the rotting flesh began to stink

Cry freedom for the woman in the wall
Cry freedom for she has no voice at all
I hear her cry all day, all night
I hear her voice from deep within the wall
Made a cross from knitting needles
Made a grave from hoover bags
Especially for the woman in the wall

She'd knitted him a jumper with dominoes on
So he wore it every day in every week
Pretended to himself that she hadn't really gone
Pretended that he thought he heard her speak
Then at last it seemed that he was really winning
He felt that he had some sort of grip
But all of his new life was sent a-spinning
When the rotting wall began to drip

***

It was another holiday argument
But she threw him into the sea
A glass bottomed boat pulled him up
His face was rotting in weed

***

I heard him whisper this question in her ear
'Would you still love me if I lost my legs?'
'I'd see that you were loved and you were fed'
'I end up in a car crash almost dead'
'For richer and for partly severed head'
I'd rather drink that toast to my own health
I think tonight I'd rather love myself