Ladies in Their Sensitivities

Walk home with me, for I have news for you

In order to shield her from the evils of this world, I have decided to marry Johanna next Monday

Ah, sir, happy news, indeed!

Strange, when I offered myself to her, she showed a certain reluctance

Excuse me, my lord

May I request, my lord

Permission, my lord, to speak?

Forgive me if I suggest, my lord

You're looking less than your best, my lord

There's powder upon your vest, my lord

And stubble upon your cheek

And ladies, my lord, are weak

Ladies in their sensitivities, my lord

Have a fragile sensibility

When a girl's emergent

Probably it's urgent

You defer to her gentility, my lord

Personal disorder cannot be ignored

Given their genteel proclivities

Meaning no offense, it

Happens they resents it

Ladies in their sensitivities, my lord

Stubble, you say? Perhaps at times I am a little over-hasty with my morning ablutions

Fret not, though, my lord

I know a place, my lord

A barber, my lord, of skill

Thus armed with a shaven face, my lord

Some eau de cologne to brace my lord

And musk to enhance the chase, my lord

You'll dazzle the girl until

Until?

She bows to your every will

Perhaps you may be right, take me to him