| Any girl who’s reached the age
|
| Of seventeen or thereabout
|
| Has but one desire in view
|
| She knows she has reached the stage
|
| Of needing one to care about
|
| Nothing else will really do
|
| Childhood games are left behind
|
| And her heart takes wing
|
| Hoping that it soon will find
|
| Just one thing
|
| We’ve got to have
|
| We plot to have
|
| For it’s so dreary not to have
|
| That certain thing called the boy friend
|
| We dream about
|
| And scheme about
|
| And we’ve been known to scream about
|
| That certain thing called the boy friend
|
| He is really a necessity
|
| If you want to get on
|
| And we might as well confess it, he
|
| Is a sine qua non
|
| We sigh for him
|
| And cry for him
|
| And we would gladly die for him
|
| That certain thing called the boy friend
|
| We need to have
|
| We plead to have
|
| In fact, our poor hearts bleed to have
|
| That certain thing called the boy friend
|
| We’d save for him
|
| And slave for him
|
| We’d even misbehave for him
|
| That certain thing called the boy friend
|
| Life without us is quite impossible
|
| And devoid of all charms
|
| No amount of idle gossip’ll
|
| Keep them out of our arms
|
| We’re blue without
|
| Can’t do without
|
| Our dreams just can’t come true without
|
| That certain thing called the boyfriend
|
| (dance break)
|
| We’re blue without
|
| Can’t do without
|
| Our dreams just can’t come true without
|
| That certain thing called the boyfriend |