| No sweet and pure angelic lass for me
|
| That kinda gal can spin a web, you see
|
| She trades on wholesome innocence galore
|
| But it’s my independence that she’s trading for
|
| The only affirmative she will file
|
| Refers to marching down the aisle
|
| No golden, glorious, gleaming pristine goddess, no sir!
|
| For no Diana do I play faun, I can tell you that right now
|
| I snarl, I hiss
|
| How can ignorance be compared to bliss?
|
| I spark, I fizz
|
| For the lady who knows what time it is
|
| I cheer, I rave
|
| For the virtue I’m too late to save
|
| The sadder but wiser girl for me
|
| No bright-eyed, blushing, breathless baby-doll baby, no sir!
|
| That kinda child ties knots no sailor ever knew
|
| I prefer to take a chance
|
| On a more adult romance
|
| No dewy young miss who keeps resisting
|
| All the time she keeps insisting
|
| No wide-eyed, wholesome, innocent female
|
| Why, she’s the fisherman, I’m the fish, you’ll see
|
| I flinch, I shy
|
| When the lass with the delicate air goes by
|
| I smile, I grin
|
| When the gal with a touch of sin walks in
|
| I hope and I pray
|
| For Hester to win just one more 'A'
|
| The sadder but wiser girl for me
|
| No giggling ice cream soda drinker
|
| Out to hook you line and sinker
|
| No honey throated beckoning siren
|
| I plug my ears and I grab my oars and I flee
|
| I jeer, I boo
|
| At the puritan hearted ingenue
|
| I yearn, I long
|
| For the woman whose Pop says «What went wrong?»
|
| I root and I clap
|
| For the dame in the gownless evening strap
|
| The sadder but wiser girl’s the girl for me
|
| The sadder but wiser girl for me |