ten milk bottles up against the wall
next door neighbour thinks we’re dead
hasn’t heard a sound he said
doesn’t know we’ve been in bed
the ten whole days since we were wed
noone knows and noone sees
we lovers doing as we please
but people stop and point at these
ten milk bottles a-turning into cheese
ten milk bottles standing day and night
ten different thicknesses and
different shades of white
persistent carolsingers without a note to utter
silent carolsingers a-turning into butter
now she’s run out of passion
and theres not much left in me
so maybe we’ll get up
and make a cup of tea
then people can stop wondering
what they’re waiting for
those ten milk bottles a-queuing at our door
those ten milk bottles a-queuing at our door
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