[Verse] Come, sit thee near Place thyself upon my knee Make an end of thy fear For i love but thee in camelot Oh, no not here Where observed by all we'll be Should thy father appear He would surely scold and damn a lot Care not a jot Harken to my plot: Soon we'll retreat to a sweet spot! Oh, for a year On a desert island with thee Out in the sheer middle of the sea We'll sing tra-la Wouldn't we be happy and gay With thy mama many miles away? In the morning air Murmur a blessing; First we'll eat Then we will dress If it's fair We'll be caressing If it rains We'll caress! Who knows next year What the population will be Out in the middle of the sea? Patter I'll pack each little thing for thee What ten books shall i bring for thee? We'll need some books to read Thou needst not bring ten books along If thou wilt bring thy looks along 'twill be enough for me If the heat begins to swelter We won't have to fear the sun We will lie beneath a shelter Only big enough for one Let the prudish people quarrel We'll forget them for the nonce If they think our love immoral "Honi soit qui mal y pense." I'll dress the way that adam did And i the way his madam did I'll see enough of thee!
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