We're at a stand-still! What she's been sending,
It's not any money a man can build a house with.
She's as giddy as a cyclone!
All the profits go for her pleasure!
And we're at a stand-still, for what she's been sending
Is not any money a man can build a house with.
Won't she settle down to business ?
Won't she ever learn to save something ?
For what the feather-brain is sending is not any kind of money
A man can build a little house with.
We're making progress.
We have come to Los Angeles
And every door is open here to welcome extras.
We only need a bit of practice
Avoiding possible faux pas
And what can stop us going straight to the top then ?
O Lord, look down upon our daughter,
Show her the way that leads the Good to Thy reward.
If you take offense at injustice,
Mister Big will show he's offended;
If a curse or a blow can enrage you so
Your usefulness here is ended.
Then mind what the Good Book tells us
When it says: