Your wedding guests have had their breakfasts, now some of them are getting restless. You lead your new wife to the dancefloor, your first time shouldn't be ignored. Well your family were aghast at the choice you made They pictured someone else and they think She's a mistake Now she's yours, She's yours, Very personally yours. Now she's surrounded by your siblings, nippers And ruddy red-faced Cheshire grippers, Who love the speech made by her father, And the way she threw her garter. And the smacking of her father they were calling rough, But they never judged her on her capacity to punch. Now she's yours, Said she's yours, Very personally yours. She smiles but she can hear the whispers of your jealous older sisters: "Flowers, God, what was she thinking? Dress, who does she think she's kidding?" But she don't need the patronising bastards The one, the light, my darling. Yeah, she's yours, She's yours, Very personally yours, Yeah, she's yours.