Marriage is a two-headed transplant,
Sometimes that's how it seems.
When the sex wears off it's all give and take,
And it's good-bye to all your dreams.
One head wants to go to a movie
While the other wants to stay at home,
And just like a two-headed transplant
You get the feeling that you're never alone.
Mr. and Mrs. Horrible are an example of what I say.
They used to be so in love, now they fight so much
That they've frightened all their friends away.
They never get visits from neighbors,
They've alienated everyone.
And what started off as all cuddles and kisses
Has finally become
A labour of love, labour of love.
The torment, the worry and woe,
Love's full of fears, bruises and tears,
That's the way that a true love grows.
It's a labour of love, labour of love.
It's a struggle, without a doubt,
But if they keep on trying, screaming and crying,
Somehow they're gonna work it all out.
It turned into a two-headed transplant,
But it started off with
