Boy Wanted

Introd.: Verse 1: I’ve just finished writing an advertisement                      Calling for          a      boy    No half-hearted Romeo or flirt   Is meant that’s the kind I’d not employ                          Though anybody         interested can apply                 He must know a thing to qualify. Or instance He must be able to dance he must make life a romance                                 I said a boy wanted          one who can smile                Boy wanted  lovable style He must be tender and true He must be teder and and he must know how to woo                                       I know we’ll get          acquainted mighty soon out in                    A garden ’neath a harvest moon And if he proves to be the right little laddie                      I’ll make him glad            he’ll answer my ad             To be the boy of my choice He needn’t own a Rolls Royce                             The kind of boy         wanted Needn’t have gold                  Boy wanted Mustn’t be cold If he has oodles of charm I’ll even life on a farm if he fits into my picture of a home                          I’ll be so nice he’ll never have to roam Yes                If he proves to be the right little laddie I’ll make him Glad          He answered my ad                He must like musical shows and he must wear snappy clothes                                      Yes that is my story and to it I’ll stick; there’s no Glory                In having a hick He must know how to say "Yes! When I look At a new dress. oh I’ll be ready when the right one calls                                 And I’ll start vamping Him until he falls and if             He subsidises me Oh sweet daddy I’ll make him glad           He answered my ad               The movies he must avoid he’ll know his Nietzsche and Freud                                        I said a boy wanted One who knows books; Boy wanted                         Needn’t have looks         He must be such a          saint But Oh! he dassent say ’ain’t’                 I don’t care if his bankroll totals naught For we can live on love                                 And food for thought. If he’s a scholar when I see him I’ll holler                      ’My lad I’m glad you answered my ad’