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you're gonna be his not mine
Do you think you will be happy, giving up your friends
For your semi-detached suburban Mr. James

So you finally got your man,
of hay for the stable.
Well, the light, it is failing along the green belt
As we follow the hard road signs.
Semi-detached in our suburban-ness ---
We're
taught
To leap and fall around
Soft and protected from this world of stone
And we're in the caretaker's home
Which is semi-detached in a world of stone
We
Not up to much
She's imitative
Her mind's in pieces
She said we can't all live
Her mind is in pieces
She said we can't all live in semi-detached
Emily leaves out the strict necessary
Such is the eminent dignity
The superfluous that she keeps
Is the only remedy
For mediocrity

Semi-detached
all on my very own
But there's one thing that keeps calling me
To that little, that little semi-detached
That's the folks, yeah, the folks back home
of the drainpipe 
Oh, Mama! 
Belongs to me 

Rodney's vain saxaphone solo, as promised 

My pink half of the drainpipe 
Semi-detach-ed, ah! 
My pink half
better hold on tight, and wait for the storm to blow over, 
We better hold on tight and wait for the storm to blow over

Who wants a semi-detached
Your hands brush through my hair
We’d look up at the stars and question what was way up there
Cause whether semi-detached
Or living in flats
Our
down those lonely avenues
Semi-detached; a suburban world
No place for secret lovers walking hand-in-hand
I once had a girl, I had a girl

I had a girl,
the upper east side in semi-detached suburban Britain. 
You have to ask yourself why? 
Its like whitewash is brainwash, 
They're diluting out style
a road somewhere that'll lead you to your dreams
Ooh ooh ooh
We're all looking for the roads to freedom [Repeat]

It might be a semi-detached
With
be a semi-detached
With a hatchback in the drive
It might be a toy boy
Or someone else's wife
It might be a sawn-off shotgun
Wanted dead or alive
But
on the hill, suttin' semi-detached
'Cah livin' how I'm livin', I can never relax
G, I got fish in the bowl and the recipe's crack
And this fish talk to me
ever
Never relaxed, semi-detached
Pack bags, hit the high road, renovate for the better
Only chance in hell that I can get recognition in Heaven,

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