كلمات The Laughing Song

My dear Marquis Why must you be So loyal throughout your hours? When you stop and stare Take a lot more care And closely scrutinise My fingers, my ankles, my feet Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah! How shapely and trim and petite Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Both accent and inflection show polish to perfection Such graces are the traces of our old elite Such graces are the traces of our old elite I marvel how a man like you Could fail to see my blood was blue What a funny, ha, ha, ha Situation, ha, ha, ha What a startling, ha, ha, ha Revelation, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha What a funny, ha, ha, ha Situation, ha, ha, ha ah, ah, ah, ah Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah Ah-ah, ah-ah Marquis, I want to like you-ah Profiles they say Give the game away When formed with classic grace If the head on view Isn't much to you Then look at me side-face What evidence more can there be, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah I sing at soirees without fee, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah Bestowing my attention With lofty condescension Such graces are the traces of a pedigree Such graces are the traces of a pedigree All's one to you, though I'm afraid Because you love a parlour maid What a funny, ha, ha, ha Situation, ah, ah, ah What a startling, ha, ha, ha Revelation, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah What a funny, ha, ha, ha Situation, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah Ah-ah, ah-ah Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah Ah! Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah Ah, ah, ah, ah Ah! Ahh, ah, ah, ah!