Not to be confused with, as it maybe has been, Baby It’s Cold Outside by Cerys Matthews and Tom Jones
I really can’t stay
Baby it’s cold outside
I’ve got to go away
I don’t come from Wales
Imagine every Tom Jones song is just him insisting, in an increasingly aggravated tone, that he doesn’t actually come from Wales.
Mama told me not to come (from Wales)
Sexbomb sexbomb you’re a sexbomb
You can give it to me when I need to come along
Sexbomb sexbomb you’re my sexbomb
And baby I don’t come from Wales
It’s not unusual that I don’t come from Wales
It’s not unusual to be someone not from Wales
And if you see me out and about and not from Wales
IT’S NOT UNUSUAL TO NOT BE WELSH
The old home town looks the same
as I step down from the train
And there to meet me
is my Mama and Papa.
Down the road I look
and there runs Mary
hair of gold
and lips like cherries.
It’s good to touch
the green, green grass of Not Wales
Yes, they’ll all come to meet me,
arms reaching, smiling sweetly.
It’s good to touch
the green, green grass of Not Wales
The old house is still standing
tho’ the paint is cracked and dry
And there’s that old oak tree
that I used to play on.
Down the lane I walk
with my sweet Mary,
hair of gold
and lips like cherries.
It’s good to touch
the green, green grass of Not Wales
Then I awake and look around me,
at four grey wall surround me.
And I realize that I was only dreaming.
For there’s a guard
and there’s a sad old padre
Arm in arm we’ll walk at daybreak.
Again I touch
the green, green grass of Not Wales
Yes, they’ll all come to see me
in the shade of that old oak tree
As they lay me neath
the green, green grass of Not Wales
Wow
SHEEEEE STOOD THERE LAUGHING
I TOOK THE KNIFE IN MY HAND
AND DON’T COME FROM WALES
forgive me Delilah I just wasn’t Welsh anyMOOORRREEEEEEEEEEEEE
THINK I WANNA NOT COME FROM WAAAAALES NOW
Somethin’ ain’t right
Gonna get myself, I’m gonna get myself
Gonna get myself connected
I ain’t gonna go blind
For the light which is reflected
I see through you, I see through you
I see through you, I see through you
Ya dirty tricks, ya make me sick
I see through you, I see through you
Gonna do it again, gonna do it again
I’m (gonna do it again, gonna do it again)
Gotta do right (gonna do it again)
‘Cause somethin’ ain’t right (gonna do it again)
Gotta do right, come on
Crying at my desk in Wales :')
Mama told me I was welsh
I said “where d’you think I’m from, muuuuuuum?”
That ain’t the Wales that I’m from!
Remembering his covers albums now:
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-a-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-a-lam
She really gets me high, bam-a-lam
I’m not from Wales, bam-a-lam
Watch out, you might get what you’re after
Boom babies, strange, but not a Welshman
What’s new Pontypridd?
I don’t come from you.