It Would Never Have Worked

As sung by Victoria Wood on Victoria Wood real life—the songs, CD number OMCD1212, and featured in Lucky Bag: The Victoria Wood Song Book, 2nd edition published 1992 by Methuen, ISBN 0-7493-0819-2

I was half way through a West End run, getting the nightly obligatory chuckle on the name of our dear lady prime minister, when she very inconsiderately resigned. Since which time, not a titter. What, so you mean, rewrite the verse? At that rate, I’d be changing the lyrics every eleven years.

It’s over. You’ve missed the bus.
Nice idea, but not for us.
We didn’t click.
Let’s make it quick

And say goodbye.
Don’t hold my hand,
And don’t demand

A reason why,

No loving looks, no fond regards.
Tonight was always on the cards.

I like big muscles. You were thin and lanky.
I like nice manners. You were far too cranky.
You blew your nose and then looked in your hanky.


It would never have worked.

The day I met you was a real heart-wrencher.
I thought that love would be a big adventure,
Then I saw the spinach on your bottom denture.


It would never have worked.

Chorus:
I wanted champagne and oysters,


Because that’s the way I am.
You gave me Vimto, tinned carrots

And Spam.

Rapport’s a thing you just can’t manufacture.
You had your pin-up girl, I couldn’t match her.
I didn’t want to: it was Mrs Thatcher.


Things would never have worked.

I wanted love to come and knock our blocks off.
But even Venus takes her card and clocks off.
Your idea of foreplay was to take your socks off.


It would never have worked.

Chorus:
I wanted moonlight and roses


And all that silly tosh.
You wanted gerbils, a whippet,

A wash.

I wanted love poems but you couldn’t write them,
My ear lobes nibbled but you wouldn’t bite them.
You’d only fart and then attempt to light them.


It would never have worked.

We’re not compatible. Let’s not get blue, dear.
At least we see each other’s point of view, dear.
I like big hunky men, and so do you, dear.


It would never have worked.

© Victoria Wood, 1987