Lyrics Then You Make Take Me to the Fair - Julie Andrews, John Cullum, James Gannon

Then You Make Take Me to the Fair

Sir Lionel!
Do you recall the other night
That I distinctly said you might
Serve as my escort at the next town fair?
Well, I’m afraid there’s someone who
I must invite in place of you
Someone who plainly is beyond compare
That Frenchman’s power is more tremendous
Than I have e’er seen anywhere
And when a man is that stupendous
He, by right, should take me to the fair
Your majesty, let me tilt with him and smite him!
Don’t refuse me so abruptly, I implore!
Oh, give me the opportunity to fight him
And Gaul will be divided once more!
You will bash and thrash him?
I’ll smash and mash him
You’ll give him trouble?
He will be rubble
A mighty whack?
His skull will crack
Well…
Then you may take me to the fair
If you do all the things you promise
In fact, my heart would break should you not take me to the fair
Sir Sagramore!
I have some rather painful news
Relative to the subject who’s
To be beside me at the next court ball
You were the chosen one, I know
But as tradition it should go
To the unquestioned champion in the hall
And I’m convinced that splendid Frenchman
Can easily conquer one and all
And besting all our local henchmen
He should sit beside me at the ball
I beg of you, ma’am, withhold your invitation
I swear to you this challenge will be met
And when I have finished up the operation
I’ll serve him to your highness en brochette!
You’ll pierce right through him?
I’ll barbecue him!
A wicked thrust?
'Twill be dust to dust!
From fore to aft?
He’ll feel a draft!
Well then…
You may sit by me at the ball
If you demolish him in battle
In fact, I know I’d cry were you not by me at the ball
Sir Dinadan!
Didn’t I promise that you may
Guide me to London on the day
That I go up to judge the cattle show?
As it is quite a nasty ride
There must be someone at my side
Who’ll be defending me from beast and foe
So when I choose whom I prefer go
I take the strongest knight I know
And young du Lac seems strongest, ergo
He should take me to the cattle show
Your Majesty can’t believe this blustering prattle
Let him prove it with a sword or lance instead!
I promise you, when I’ve done this Gaul in battle
His shoulders will be lonesome for his head!
You’ll disconnect him?
I’ll vivisect him
You’ll open-wide him?
I’ll subdivide him
Oh, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear
Then you may guide me to the show
If you can carry out your program
In fact, I’d grieve inside should you not guide me to the show
Milady, we shall put an end to
That Galic bag of noise and nerve
When we do all that we intend to
He’ll be a plate of French hors d’ouvres!
I do applaud your noble goals
Now let us see if you achieve them
And if you do, then you will be the three
Who will go to the ball, to the show
And take me to the fair