Pinwheel of Death

Ann Miller


SONGS

Writers Stephen Sondheim

Genres Showtune

Recorded 1998

Lyrics I KNOW THIS GROCERY CLERK,
UNPREPOSSESSING.
SOME THINK THE BOY IS A JERK,
THEY HAVE MY BLESSING.
BUT WHEN HE STARTS TO MOVE,
HE AIMS TO PLEASE,
WHICH ONLY GOES TO PROVE
THAT SOMETIMES IN A CLERK
YOU FIND A HERCULES.
HE HASN'T MUCH
THAT IS PLUS.
YOU MIGHT DESCRIBE HIM THUS:

A FALSE ALARM,
A BROKEN ARM
AN IMITATION HITLER
AND WITH LITTLER CHARM,
BUT OH,
CAN THAT BOY FOXTROT!
HIS MOUTH IS MEAN,
HE IS NOT TOO CLEAN,
WHAT MAKES HIM
LOOK REPTILIAN
IS THE BRILLIANTINE,
BUT OH,
CAN THAT BOY FOX TROT!

WHO KNOWS
WHAT I SAW IN HIM?
I TOOK A CHANCE.
OH YES,
ONE MORE FLAW IN HIM:
HE CANT DANCE.

AS DUMBBELLS GO,
HE IS RATHER SLOW,
AND AS FOR BEING SAINTLY,
EVEN FAINTLY,
NO.
BUT WHO NEEDS ALBERT SCHWEITZER
WHEN THE LIGHTS ARE LOW?
AND OH BOY,
OH BOY,
CAN THAT BOY FOXTROT!

RIGHT NOW,
AS I SPEAK OF HIM,
I HEAR THOSE DRUMS!
AND OH,
THE TECHNIQUE OF HIM -
HE IS ALL THUMBS.

HIS JOKES ARE QUAINT,
AND FAIRLY FAINT,
HE MAY BE FULL OF HOKUM,
BUT I HAVE NO COMPLAINT.
HE OFTEN IS A BORE,
BUT ON THE FLOOR
HE AIN'T.
AND OH BOY,
OH BOY,
CAN THAT BOY FOXTROT!