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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Proclaimers
The Proclaimers
Performer
Charlie Reid
Charlie Reid
Acoustic Guitar
Craig Reid
Craig Reid
Vocals
J. Cranham
J. Cranham
Bass Guitar
Dave Mattacks
Dave Mattacks
Drums
Kevin Wilkinson
Kevin Wilkinson
Drums
Jerry Donahue
Jerry Donahue
Electric Guitar
Bobby Valentino
Bobby Valentino
Fiddle
Stuart Nisbet
Stuart Nisbet
Mandolin
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Charlie Reid
Charlie Reid
Songwriter
Craig Reid
Craig Reid
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Barry Hammond
Barry Hammond
Engineer
Geoff Pesche
Geoff Pesche
Mastering Engineer
Pete Wingfield
Pete Wingfield
Producer

Lyrics

You're a grown woman Good at what you do I'm happy as hell When I'm alone with you As you stroke my body And soothe my brow With everything That the law will allow I pray, "Don't turn out like your mother" You're a grown woman Good at what you do I'm happy as hell When I'm alone with you As you stroke my body And soothe my brow With everything That the law will allow I pray, "Don't turn out like your mother" I'm a grown man Over 21 I've got an ugly face But I have a lot of fun So if spill a glass Or break a dish I hear your voice And I make this wish Please, "Don't turn out like your mother" Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out like your mother I couldn't stand it And I'll be damned if I'm gonna live with another So many woman Give you so much Civilized ways And a gentle touch A different perspective That's as bright as a button But then you wake up one morning And it all counts for nothing 'Cause she's turned into her mother Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out like your mother I couldn't stand it And I'll be damned if I'm gonna live with another It's not the way she looks It's not the food she cooks Her kind of indignation Don't cause me trepidation But to live with a woman like this Would take a masochist Or someone who could get and could stay permanently pissed, yeah It's not the way she looks It's not the food she cooks Her kind of indignation Don't cause me trepidation But to live with a woman like this Would take a masochist Or someone who could get and could stay permanently pissed, yeah You're a grown woman And you're good at what you do I'm happy as hell When I'm alone with you As you stroke my body And soothe my brow With everything That the law will allow I'm a grown man I'm over 21 I've got an ugly face But I have a lot of fun So if spill a glass Or break a dish Don't get on to me Like some haranguing witch Don't turn out like your mother Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out like your mother I couldn't stand it And I'll be damned if I'm gonna live with another It's not her looks Or the way she cooks That wakes me up in a cold sweat It's just the knowledge That if it happened I couldn't drink enough to forget Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't turn out Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Don't end up Please Don't become Please Don't turn out Don't turn out like your mother
Writer(s): Craig Reid, Charlie Reid Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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