Lyrics:
groom
If he'll keep the piles of money mounting
In our cottage there will be
A soundproof nursery
Not to wake the baby while I'm counting
I like
c short walk up the hill, a crest of brick and stone
c familiar resting place, a crest of brick and stone
There's only one way this will go, if not
Well, she was at her wit's end
I wish my son were not a fool
I wish my house was not a mess
I wish the cow was full of milk
I wish the walls were
knew
Oh there ain't no redemption no redemption
When you're stone cold sane
But crazy is just another point of view
From a house on a hill by
NARRATOR
Well, she was not quite beautiful-
JACK'S MOTHER
I wish my son were not a fool.
I wish my house was not a mess.
I wish the cow was full of milk.
I
was not quite beautiful
I wish my son were not a fool
I wish my house was not a mess
I wish the cow was full of milk
I wish the walls were full
the pope
Tell your mama please, get up off her knees
You can't wear yellow spandex wit a ass of cottage cheese
Open toed shoes, feet smell like collard
PRESENTER:
Welcome back. Before the break we saw Andrew and Julie, who bought this beautiful Victorian property, which sits just a stones throw away
straight track...
To a patch of grass in a clearing of the woodland
Just a single road leading in made of earth and stones
No houses near for miles
Just
An enormous beanstalk growing next to that little cottage!
I mean slippers as pure as gold!
I must get home!
I need your shoe!
Wait!
One midnight
An enormous beanstalk growing next to that little cottage!
I mean slippers as pure as gold!
I must get home!
I need your shoe!
Wait!
One midnight
girlfriend then take his necklace
My ex girl be pissed off
She say "Greg why you act so aggressive?"
Get in altercations at a Waffle House
We swangin on em
to the streets
We got money on the phone
VV's like rock, keep a pocket full of stones
She see me and she cream, no cone
Play green and the chop sing, they need
friend
Dem a wait paw mi fi seh hi to dem
Rock stone wi mek rifle fly to dem
Watch the bwoy a keep malice
Badmind fi chalice like bitch in a the palace
house a man must be a sinner
To toil for parish work and go without his parish dinner.
While strolling through the churchyard he saw some old tombstones
Three boys working on a slave gang
Chained in the cottage at night
Killed the overseer, broke down the door
Now they gonna shoot us on sight
Neither white pebble-stones
Nor crumbs of bread were left as a trail
For them to be led along crooked old trees
Looking like twisted shapes
And after we were married
We went to our white stone cottage
And you took your simple dress off
And your tears fell in my eyes
As we were overcome with wonder
Three boys working on a slave gang
Chained in the cottage at night
Killed the overseer, broke down the door
Now they gonna shoot us on sight
Night
Alice didn't mess around
Everybody knew she ran the best bang house in town
But when they found poor Jenny
Stone cold in bed
Poker Faced Alice, well
She
in this ride and this beater's old
Hope big man took care when
He greased this pole (Woi)
Pissed that Lorraine stopped beatin' stone
I swear to God,
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