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Pulp - Bad Cover Version
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Oh, the word's on the street:
you've found someone new
If he looks nothing like me
I'm so happy for you
I heard an old girlfriend
has turned to the church
She's trying to replace me
but it'll never work

'Cos every touch reminds you of
just how sweet it could have been
and every time he kisses you
it leaves behind the bitter taste of saccharine

A bad cover version of love is not the real thing
Bikini-clad girl on the front who invited you in
Such great disappointment when you got him home
The original was so good; the one you no longer own

And every touch reminds you of just how sweet it could have been
And every time he kisses you, you get the taste of saccharine

It's not easy to forget me, it's so hard to disconnect
when it's electronically reprocessed to give a more life-like effect

Aah, sing your song
about all the sad imitations that got it so wrong:

It's like a later Tom and Jerry
when the two of them could talk;
like the Stones since the eighties
like the last days of Southfork;
Like Planet of the Apes on TV
the second side of 'Til the Band Comes In;
like an own-brand box of cornflakes
he's going to let you down my friend