Wonderful Woman — The Smiths

Here her head, she lay Until she'd rise and say : I'm starved of mirth; Let's go and trip a dwarf

Oh, what to be done with her ? Oh, what to be done with her ? Oh ...

Ice water for blood With neither heart or spine And then just To pass time; let us go and rob the blind

What to be done with her ? I ask myself : What to be said of her ? Oh ...

But when she calls me, I do not walk, I run Oh, when she calls, I do not walk, I run Oh ... Oh ...

Oh ...