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To the tables down at Morey's |
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To the place where Louis dwells |
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To the dear old temple bar we love so well |
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Sing the Whiffenpoofs assembled |
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With their glasses raised on high |
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And the magic of their singing cast it's spell |
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We will serenade our Louis |
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While life and voice shall last |
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Then we'll pass and be forgotten like the rest |
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We're poor little lambs |
|
Who have lost our way |
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Baa Baa Baa |
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We're little black sheep |
|
Who have gone astray |
|
Baa Baa Baa |
|
Gentlemen songsters off on a spree |
|
Doomed from here to eternity |
|
Lord have mercy on such as we |
|
Baa Baa Baa |
|
We're poor little lambs |
|
Who have lost our way |
|
Baa Baa Baa |
|
We're little black sheep |
|
Who have gone astray |
|
Baa Baa Baa |
|
Gentlemen songsters off on a spree |
|
Doomed from here to eternity |
|
Lord have mercy on such as we |
|
Baa Baa Baa |
