Who writes the words and music for all the girly shows?
No one cares, and no one knows.
Who is the handsome hero some villain always frames?
But who cares if there’s a plot or not, when they’ve got a lot of dames!


What do you go for,
Go see a show for?
Tell the truth, you go to see those beautiful dames.
You spend your dough for
Bouquets that grow for
All those cute and cunning, young and beautiful dames.
Oh, dames are temporary flames to you,
Dames, you don’t recall their names, do you?
But their caresses
And home addresses,
Linger in your mem’ry of those beautiful dames.

The Girl At The Ironing Board

Verse 1:

Many a poor little rich girl is sad
Inside of a palace of gold.
She’s never known all the dreams that I’ve had,
Her life is completely cold;

Chorus 1:

But a girl who works in a laundry,
Has a dream lover all of her own;
A lover unseen, whose love she keeps clean
With water and soap, and a washing machine.
Oh, she loves to launder his linen,
Ev’ry collar and shirt is adored;
And she loves all the stitches
In his flannel britches,
The girl at the ironing board.


Scrub and rub, rub and scrub,
We do the neighborhood washing.
Scrub and rub in a tub,
Rub-a-dub-dub, boop-a-doo!

Chorus 2:

Just a girl who works in a laundry,
Who’s in love with a man of her dreams;
Her lover unseen, whose clothes she keeps clean
With water and soap, and a washing machine.
When she sees a button is missing,
She’ll replace it of her own accord;
As she fondles each sock,
She can love him by proxy,
The girl at the ironing board.

Verse 2:

I know a princess somewhere in this land
Who leans o’er a washtub each day;
But o’er the washtub her daydreams are grand,
Even the soap-suds can’t wash them away;

[Chorus 1, Interlude, Chorus 2]

Verse 2 (from British sheet music):

Up in the steam clouds her dream man she sees,
A palace around her soon grows;
Mangles keep churning out love melodies,
Soap suds just smell like the pure eau-de-rose;

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