Joy:
Why would a fellow want a girl like her,
A frail and fluffy beauty?
Why can’t a fellow ever once prefer
A solid girl like me?

Portia:
She’s a frothy little bubble
With a flimsy kind of charm,
And with very little trouble
I could break her little arm!

Joy:
Oh, oh, why would a fellow want a girl like her,
So obviously unusual?
Why can’t a fellow ever once prefer
A usual girl like me?

Portia:
Her cheeks are a pretty shade of pink,
But not any pinker than a rose is.

Joy:
Her skin may be delicate and soft,
But not any softer than a doe’s is.

Portia:
Her neck is no whiter than a swan’s.

Joy:
She’s only as dainty as a daisy.

Portia:
She’s only as graceful as a bird.

Both:
So why is the fellow going crazy?

Oh, why would a fellow want a girl like her,
A girl who’s merely lovely?
Why can’t a fellow ever once prefer
A girl who’s merely me?

Joy:
She’s a frothy little bubble
With a frilly sort of air,
And with very little trouble
I could pull out all her hair!

Both:
Oh, oh, why would a fellow want a girl like her,
A girl who’s merely lovely?
Why can’t a fellow ever once prefer
A girl who’s merely me?

What’s the matter with the man?
What’s the matter with the man?
What’s the matter with the man?