(Verse 1)
Life is what you make it
As someone once observed
A phrase the sounds a trifle glib
But whoever thought it out had clearly never sorted out
The vexing problem of Adam's spare rib
Chastity, I take it
Is specially reserved
For those possessing moral fibres
Mine fail me all the time
And maybe that's the reason I'm
A Baa Baa Black Sheep calling all subscribers
(Chorus 1)
Time and again
I'm tortured with contrition
And swear that I'm sorry I've sinned
Then when I've got the whole thing sewn up
I must own up
Everything gets blown up
Freud could explain
My curious condition
And Jung would have certainly grinned
When I meet some sly dish
That looks like my dish
I'm sunk, drunk, gone with the wind
Life is what you make it
As someone once observed
A phrase the sounds a trifle glib
But whoever thought it out had clearly never sorted out
The vexing problem of Adam's spare rib
Chastity, I take it
Is specially reserved
For those possessing moral fibres
Mine fail me all the time
And maybe that's the reason I'm
A Baa Baa Black Sheep calling all subscribers
(Chorus 1)
Time and again
I'm tortured with contrition
And swear that I'm sorry I've sinned
Then when I've got the whole thing sewn up
I must own up
Everything gets blown up
Freud could explain
My curious condition
And Jung would have certainly grinned
When I meet some sly dish
That looks like my dish
I'm sunk, drunk, gone with the wind
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