| Everytime I hear that dear old wedding march
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| I feel rather glad I have a broken arch
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| I have heard a lot of married people talk
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| And I know that marriage is a long long walk
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| To most people weddings mean romance
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| But I prefer a picnic or a dance
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| Another bride
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| Another groom
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| Another sunny honeymoon
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| Another season
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| Another reason
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| For making whoopee
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| The choir sing, «Here comes the bride.»
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| Another victim is by her side
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| He’s lost his reason cause it’s the season
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| For making whoopee
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| Down through the countless ages
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| You’ll find it everywhere
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| Somebody makes good wages
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| Somebody wants her share
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| She calls him 'Toodles' and rolls her eyes
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| She makes him strudels and bakes him pies
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| What is it all for?
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| It’s so he’ll fall for
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| Making whoopee
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| Another year or maybe less
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| What’s this I hear?
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| Well, can’t you guess?
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| She feels neglected and he’s suspected
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| Of making whoopee
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| She sits alone most every night
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| He doesn’t phone or even write
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| He says he’s busy
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| But she says, «Is he?»
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| He’s making whoopee
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| He doesn’t make much money:
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| Five thousand dollars per
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| Some judge who thinks he’s funny
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| Says, «You'll pay six to her.»
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| He says, «Now judge, suppose I fail?»
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| The judge says, «Bub right into jail
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| You’d better keep her
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| You’ll find it’s cheaper
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| Than making whoopee.» |