Sheep to the slaughter oh I thought this must be love

All your sons and daughters in a strangle hold with a kid glove

She's got eyes like saucers oh you think she's a dish

She is the blue chip that belongs to the big fish



But it's easier to say ";I love you,";

Than "Yours sincerely"; I suppose

All little sisters like to try on big sister's clothes

Big sister's clothes



The sport of kings, the old queen's heart

The prince in darkness stole some tart

And it's in the papers, it's in the charts

It's in the stop press before it all starts.



With a hammer on the slap and tickle under grisly garments

With all the style and finesse of the purchase of armaments

Compassion went out of fashion

That's all your concern meant

Sweat it out for thirty seconds on home improvements



But it's easier to say ";I love you,";

Than "Yours sincerely"; I suppose

All little sisters like to try on big sister's clothes

Big sister's clothes

Writer : COSTELLO
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group