My dear Marquis, why must you be, So loathe to use your eyes? When you stop and stare Take a lot more care And closely scrusitnise
My fingers, my ankles, my feet. Ha ha ha ha ha 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 friendly, ha ha ha Situation, ha ha ha What a startling, ha ha ha revelation, ha ha ha ha ha What a friendly, ha ha ha Situation, ha ha ha haaaa aaaa aaa aaaa Ahhhh aaahhhhhh Marquis oh what a wag you are!
Profiles they say Gives the game away. When formed with classic grace
If the head on view, Isn't much to you, Then look at me sideface!
What evidence more can there be?, ha ha ha ha ha I sing at soiress without fee 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 friendly, ha ha ha Situation, ha ha ha What a startling, ha ha ha Revelation, ha ha ha ha ha
What a friendly, ha ha ha Situation, ha ha ha haaaa aaaa aaa aaaaa Ahhhh aaahhhhhh ahhh aaahhh aahhh Ahhhhh aaaaahhhhhh aaaaahhhhhhh Ahhhhhaaaaahhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhh Ahhhhhaaaaahhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhh Ahhhhhaaaa ahhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhh Ahhhhhhhhhhh aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
