Gigantic Romantic

Northern women and front door steps

Dogs with sticks that like to fetch

Kids and balls they chase all day

British summertime is so grey

Southern fries and barbeque sauce

Cats with string and hay with horse

Kestrels hover by motorways

Caravans hogging the slow lane

Your love

Is like a cliche

I think you'd better make way

So I say touche

I'm a Gigantic Romantic

I'm sailing on a broken ship

Way across the Atlantic Oh

Shun me at your peril

Grandad's supply of toffee in sheds

Nana's knitting for newly weds

Music festivals in the mud

Mosh pit joy and mosh pit blood

Brother's fighting out the front

Sister's laying in the sun

Uncles drinking on their own

Aunties always on the phone

Your love

Is like a cliche

I think you'd better make way

So I say touche

I'm a gigantic romantic

I'm sailing on a broken ship

Way across the Atlantic Oh

Shun me at your peril

And when the sky it rains

I try and take the blame

But it's not all my fault

Ether's not built on nuts and bolts

Expensive fares on the cheap rides

Giving it 'the big one' at seasides

Cars tear round a roundabout

Lads drink lager lager louts

So let's 'Av it' and 'Av it large'

Call me Corporal or call me Sarge

Call me anything you want

It's these northern stripes I want

Your love

Is like a cliche

I think you'd better make way

So I say touche

I'm a gigantic romantic

I'm sailing on a broken ship

Way across the Atlantic Oh

Shun me at your peril

I'm a gigantic romantic

I'm sailing on a broken ship

Way across the Atlantic Oh

Shun me at your peril