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(alright then, here we go)
Our Harry was proper
desperate for a lass
Sighing in the local,
staring at his glass Then Bella walked in,
she caught his eye
He thought he'd won the lottery,
oh my
But she's nowt special
if we're being fair Just standard issue with some dyed blonde hair
He's bought her three gin fizzes in a row While his own
bank balance
is getting low
She started whispering inside his ear
Making out his mates were acting queer "You don't need them,
you only need me" And daft lad Harry,
he chose to agree
Oh Bella's got you on a short tight lead And she's not
even the one you need!
(no she isn't) You've ditched your mates for a bit of affection
Under the thumb of her mind direction
Harry lad, open up your eyes She's average looking and full of
lies!
Now he's barred from the match,
barred from the pub
Sitting in her parlor,
rubbing her pug She pulls the strings and he does a dance
All for a desperate,
miserable romance We told him straight,
but he wouldn't hear Now he's lost his mates and he's lost
his beer He doesn't even answer his mobile phone
Just sits in the kitchen chewing on a bone
Average Bella, she's not the one
Harry lad, what have you done?
(what a waste) (see ya,
Harry)