I'm a Gigolo

I should like you all to know,

I'm a famous gigolo.

And of lavender, my nature's got just a dash in it.

As I'm slightly undersexed,

You will always find me next

To some dowager who's wealthy rather than passionate.

Go to one of those night club places

And you'll find me stretching my braces

Pushing ladies with lifted faces 'round the floor.

But I must confess to you

There are moments when I'm blue.

And I ask myself whatever I do it for.

I'm a flower that blooms in the winter,

Sinking deeper and deeper in snow.

I'm a baby who has

No mother but jazz,

I'm a gigolo.

Ev'ry morning, when labor is over,

To my sweet-scented lodgings I go,

Take the glass from the shelf

And look at myself,

I'm a gigolo.

I get stocks and bonds

From faded blondes

Ev'ry twenty-fifth of December.

Still I'm just a pet

That men forget

And only tailors remember.

Yet when I see the way all the ladies

Treat their husbands who put up the dough,

You cannot think me odd

If then I thank God

I'm a gigolo.