Lyrics

As I was saying to my dear old friend, Rex Reed, the other day To succeed You don't want brains or talent, diligence or guile No, my simple little friend, the thing you need To make your way Is what the hoittiest-toits in the uppermost crust have The one thing you must have Is style It's a matter of style, flair Je ne sais quoi Without it you're a bust You gotta come on with that smile, that air That qu'est-ce que c'est ca As I told Jascha Heifetz In our line of life it's A must They say clothes make the man if thеy beautifully adorn ya From cuff to trouser leg to blousе Now my clothes of course are by Devore of California And who does yours—Levi Strauss It's a matter of style, flair Je ne sais quoi Bravura, so to speak You gotta come out with that smile, that air That qu'est-ce que c'est ca As I told Karen Horney The day I was born I Was chic Alouette, gentil alouette Alouette, je te plumerait I don't mean to undercut you You're a cute kid, sonny, but you Haven't a chance of success Still as I promised Joanne Woodward I'll put in a good word No, don't thank me—I know Quelle largesse You see I got style, flair Je ne sais quoi That's what turns the wheel Savoir faire, qu'est-ce que c'est ca As I told Conrad Hilton It gives us that built-in Appeal When a smart looking gent leads a classy Mademoiselle in You figure he's a classy man Now I've got this Garbo, this Salome, this Helen And who've you got—Raggedy Ann You don't have the style, flair Je ne sais quoi What more can I say You gotta come on with that smile, that air That qu'est-ce que c'est ca As I told Carlo Ponti It's who's got the Gentil plumerait Gentil plumerait Face it kid— You're out of your league