Oh, I swear and I swear and I swear 
But my heart’s not in it 

I can deadpan as dead as I can 
But my heart’s not in it 

What little of yours, what little of mine 
And we’ll get by 

Like jailbirds locked in a cell 
We go well together 

Like a marriage arranged in hell 
We go well together 

Cruel poverty is the tie that binds 
And we’ll get by 

Can’t run in a dead end street 
Can’t run in a dead end street 
No wings upon your feet 
All your dreams are shackled to the ground 

Can’t run in a dead end street 
Can’t run in a dead end street 
No wings upon your feet 
And all your dreams are shackled to the ground 

And it couldn’t be love 
And it couldn’t be love 
Oh it couldn’t be love 
Oh it couldn’t be love 

What little of yours, what little of mine 
And we’ll get by