To the tables down at Morey's
To the place where Louis 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 cast it's spell...
Yes, the magic of their singing,
Of the songs we love so well,
Shall l wasting and Mavourneen and the rest,
We will serenade our Louis! (We will serenade our Louis!)
While life and voice shall last!
Then we'll pass and be forgotten like 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...) Doomed from here to eternity
(Lord...) Lord, have mercy on such as we
Baa Baa Baa!