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Firstly, I'd feel sorry for the groom. |
If I was getting wed, To some poor bloke, My dress would be cherry red, With a matching hooded cloak. The venue would be an elegant palace, With lots of nooks and crannies, We'd drink punch out of a chalice, Even the old and fragile grannies. We'd have two young, pretty flower-girls, They'd have their long hair set in curls, They would be around the age of twelve, With necklaces made of pearls. The wedding itself would take place in the grand hall, There will be a gift for each guest under their seats, The gold walls would stand glistening and tall, The children would have a handful, each, of sweets. As I enter the churchyard, people will stop and stare, In a glass carriage with two stunning white horses, They will compliment the horses, my dress, my hair, The dinner at the reception will have four courses. The reception will be in the biggest room, With everything set out in red and black, When I finally enter with my grinning groom, Pictures will be taken, as we hold up a plaque. During dinner, everyone has their own cook, They can have as much or as little as they can eat, My groom and I will share a loving look, As we smile and wave and take a seat. The cake will be so beautifully done, That it will bring people to tears, The cooks I have will not be outdone, With pink chocolate roses decorating four tiers. The speeches will not be long or short, But just the right amount of time, Jokes will be told as the uncle's snort, And will finish at a quarter to nine. We will cut the cake together as the cameras flash, And link arms to drink champagne, The drinks will clink and the liquid will splash, Now our wedding will truly entertain. We move onto the next part, The room is two hundred feet long or more, And as the music begins to start, My groom and I will take to the floor. As the music booms through the place, Aerosmith, "Don't wanna miss a thing", My groom and I will embrace, At the second chorus the guests start to sing. The guests will be free to move around the venue, From the very high turrets to the ground, As they share their personalized menu, And the nooks and crannies are found. As the guests begin to leave, The day they will never forget, It is the morning's eve, There will be not one regret. The sun will rise as we stagger to bed, We're tipsy and the hangover we're dreading, And as I lay down and rest my head, I thank you for coming to my wedding. |