I’ve flown around the world in a plane;
I’ve settled revolutions in Spain;
The North Pole I have charted but can’t get started with you.
Around the golf course I’m under par,
And all the movies want me to star;
I’ve got a house, a showplace, but I get no place with you.
You’re so supreme, lyrics I write of you;
Scheme just for a sight of you;
Dream both day and night of you; and what good does it do?
In nineteen twenty–nine I sold short;
In England I’m presented at court,
But you’ve got me downhearted
‘Cause I can’t get started with you.
Chorus 2: I do a hundred yards in ten flat;
The Prince of Wales has copied my hat;
With queens I’ve à la carted, but can’t get started with you.
The leading tailors follow my styles,
And toothpaste ads all feature my smiles;
The Asterbilts I visit, but say, what is it with you?
When first we met, how you elated me!
Pet, you devastated me!
Yet, now you’ve deflated me till you’re my Waterloo.
I’ve sold my kisses at a bazaar,
And after me they named a cigar,
But lately how I’ve smarted
‘Cause I can’t get started with you!