To the tables down at Morey's,
To the place where Louie dwells,
To the dear old Temple Bar we love so well . . .
Sing the Whiffenpoofs assembled
With their glasses raised on high
And the magic of their singing casts it's spell . . .
Yes, the magic of their singing
Of the songs we love so well
\"Shall I Wasting\" and \"Mavourneen\" and the rest.
We will serenade our Louie
While life and voice shall last,
Then we'll pass and be forgotten with the rest . . .
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.
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