Darling, I'm with St. Bernard's
And we're scouring the Alps and the Andes
And if they die then it is on my head
They follow paw prints in the snow to my throne, to my bed

We are two ships that pass in the night
You and I, we are nothing alike I am a pleasure cruise, you are gone out to trawl
Return less nets, nothing at all

You're pouting in your sleep, I'm waking still yawning
We're proving to each other that romance is boring
Sure there are things I could do, if I was half prepared to
Prove to each other that romance is boring