Beat up to an up-beat, she sings
To the man who would be king.
Wants him back, she wants him back,
She wants him back, she wants him.

Count Vernacular gets it straight
through the heart with a t-bone steak.
Wants him back, she wants him back,
She wants him back, she wants him.

When he's finished being sick, he'll be starving,
The moment she gets fat, he'll be leaving.
Wants him back, she wants him back,
She wants him back, she wants him.

Her hand welded to his arse,
In anticipation of a pasting.
Wants him back, she wants him back,
She wants him back, she wants him.

He gets porn at his fingertips, but snubs her new knickers.
She's gone from mouse to blonde, but he never notices.

Wants him back, she wants him back,
She wants him back, she wants him back.
She wants him back, she wants him back,
She wants him back, she wants him back.