Sick - The Tiger Lillies

You know I love you, oh, my darling;

you know I love to tell you it

You know I’d die for you, my sweetheart;

I hesitate to stir the shit

I know you’re kind, I know you’re generous;

and on your shoulder,

there’s no chip

Its just a small thing, oh, my darling;

your very presence makes me sick

Your compassion is unequalled;

I’m worthy not your boots to lick

You are an angel, pure and simple;

for your presence I’m not fit

You really do deserve a husband;

caring, young and kind and rich

You’re so witty and so charming;

you put to shame those country hicks

It’s just a small thing, oh, my darling;

your very presence makes me sick