As The Hours, And The Days, And The Weeks, And The Months, And The Years Roll By
Composer(s): George Formby
Performer(s): George Formby



He loved her and she loved him but her chance is mighty slim
Of ever getting married to her man
They’ve been courting years and years and fixed the wedding day
She was two hours early and he was six months late

All day for him she’ll cry, her eyes are never dry
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by
She’ll talk about a week, she stands there ankle deep
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by

They say better late than never, two birds of a feather, must get together
She’ s bought real posh underwear and said the maiden’ s prayer
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by

The twin bed by her side is still unoccupied
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by
Each night no hope at all, her face turned to the wall
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by

They say better late than never, two birds of a feather, must get together
She complains its so unjust, her trousseau full of dust
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by

How she sighs and sighs and sighs, quite an outsize size in size
She seems to miss the things she’s never had
When he said goodbye-ye he kissed her on the mat
That only set her longing for something more than that

Where they used to meet, she stands and gets cold feet
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by
She says she’s taken root, it’s growing through her boot
They say better late than never, two birds of a feather, must get together

There’s a wart upon her nose, good gracious how it grows
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by
Her age is twenty three, that’s all she means to me

She’s making baby clothes, and says one never knows
They say better late than never, two birds of a feather, must get together
Oh she’ll never know for sure, what God made husbands for
As the hours and the days and the weeks and the months and the years roll by