| Hurry up, the birthday boy is on his way
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| This is a surprise celebration
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| I hope you’ve remembered everything I’ve said
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| I want to see a total transformation
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| What’s all this?
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| Happy birthday, darling. |
| Did you think we’d forgotten?
|
| Well, I … I don’t know
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| These people are from the best men’s shop in town. |
| I had them close it down for
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| the day
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| Norma, now listen!
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| I’ll leave you boys to it
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| Happy birthday, welcome to your shopathon!
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| What’s going on?
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| Help yourself, it’s all been taken care of
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| Anyone who’s anyone is dressed by me
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| Well, golly gee
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| Pick out anything you’d like a pair of
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| You just point, I’ll do the rest
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| I’ve brought nothing but the best
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| You’re a very lucky writer
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| Come along now, get undressed
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| Unless I’m much mistaken
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| That’s a 42-inch chest
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| I don’t understand a word you’re saying
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| Well, all you need to know’s the lady’s paying
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| It’s nice to get your just reward this time of year
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| Get outta here!
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| And all my merchandise is strictly kosher
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| When you’ve thrown away all your old worn-out stuff
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| Hey, that’s enough
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| Perhaps you’d like to model for my brochure
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| I have just the thing for you
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| Chalk-stripe suits
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| In black
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| SALESMAN 2]
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| Or blue
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| Glen plaid trousers
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| Cashmere sweaters
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| Bathing shorts for Malibu
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| Here’s a patent leather lace-up
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| It’s a virtuoso shoe
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| And a simply marvelous coat made of vicuna
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| You know what you can do with your vicuna
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| Come on Joe, you haven’t even started yet
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| You wanna bet?
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| I thought by now he’d look the height of fashion
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| He always takes forever making up his mind
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| Don’t be unkind
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| I thought you writers knew about compassion
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| I love flannel on a man
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| This will complement his tan
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| We’ll take two of these and four of those
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| I’m still your greatest fan!
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| Very soon now we’ll have stopped him
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| Looking like an also-ran
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| You’re going to make me sorry that I’m staying
|
| Well, all right, I’ll choose, after all, I’m paying!
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| Evening clothes?
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| I want to see your most deluxe
|
| Won’t wear a tux
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| Of course not, dear, tuxedos are for waiters
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| What we need are tails, a white tie and top hat
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| I can’t wear that
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| Joe, second-rate clothes are for second-raters
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| Norma, please…
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| Shut up, I’m rich
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| Now some platinum blonde bitch
|
| I own so many apartments
|
| I’ve forgotten which is which
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| I don’t have to go to premieres
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| I’m never on display
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| You seem to forget that I’m a writer
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| Who cares what you wear when you’re a writer?
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| I care, Joe, and please don’t be so mean to me
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| O.K., all right
|
| You can’t come to my New Year’s Eve party in that filling-station shirt
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| I’ve been invited somewhere else on New Year’s Eve
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| Where?
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| Artie Green. |
| He’s an old friend of mine
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| I can’t do without you, Joe, I need you
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| I’ve sent out every single invitation
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| All right, Norma, I give in
|
| Of course you do
|
| And when they’ve dressed you
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| You’ll cause a sensation
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| We equip the chosen few of Movieland
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| The latest cut
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| We dress every movie star and crooner
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| From their shiny toecaps to their hatband
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| Conceal your gut
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| You won’t regret selecting the vicuna
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| If you need a hand to shake
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| If there’s a girl you want to make
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| If there’s a soul you’re out to capture
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| Or a heart you want to break
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| If you want the world to love you
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| You’ll have to learn to take
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| And gracefully accept the role you’re playing
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| You will earn every cent the lady’s paying
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| So why not have it all?
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| Now that didn’t hurt, did it?
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| The lady’s paying! |