He Tipped the Waiter

Lyrics
He tipped the waiter in the dining car For a seat near the lady with flowing fur And took off his glove and kissed her hand And yet his monocle was steaming wet O so nervous! O so grand! Greasing that palm and kissing that hand What baby brain pushed his button So his gravy train would glide Across the Elysian plain to Rome by night I met him on a Roman night And then again by Venice light Among a flock of latest loves Counting up his conquests On grey suede gloves Then shooed us all away like turtle doves And then he vowed out loud To the cooing crowd "A guy gotta lay low!" And gave me pause to realize He would if he could Seduce a halo The great hole in the skies! His were not lies, not merely lies Lies were his form of merchandise What baby brain pushed his button So his gravy train could keep puffing Across the plain to Rome by night And the Venice light O so nervous! O so grand! Greasing that palm and kissing that hand
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Credits
- Writers
- Arnold Weinstein
- William Bolcom