Poor Monty by Steven Lutvak Lyrics
SIBELLA:
Monty, it's so strange
Everything will change
Think how our lives will be
I don't know what you'll do without me
Poor Monty
You're awfully handsome and smart
Poor Monty
You'll rise above
You'll put the loss of Sibella behind
And you will find someone better to love
Poor Monty
Have I just broken your heart?
Poor Monty
Am I to blame?
It may look bleak, but in a week
I'll wager you'll have forgotten my name
I think I can picture her now
Young and willing
Oh, it's thrilling!
In a way you'll have me to thank
She'll be perfect
A shop girl, a teacher
The sister of a preacher, or a widow with cash in the bank!
Poor Monty
Cosy in a cottage for two
Oh Monty
Soon there'll be three
Nothing will stop your assent to the top
You'll own your own shop
Monty I guarantee
And I'll rue the day I turned you away
And I will say to myself:
Poor me
I can picture us now;
Very grand, in demand
Always somewhere exciting to go
All of Mayfair will imitate us
Love us and hate us
For being the people people want to know
My husband
Will grow distinguished and grey
My husband
Will always be:
Straight as a line
Steady and fine
Totally mine
Unfortunately
Dry as a bone
An insufferable drone
Dull as a stone
Poor me
Monty, it's so strange
Everything will change
Think how our lives will be
I don't know what you'll do without me
Poor Monty
You're awfully handsome and smart
Poor Monty
You'll rise above
You'll put the loss of Sibella behind
And you will find someone better to love
Poor Monty
Have I just broken your heart?
Poor Monty
Am I to blame?
It may look bleak, but in a week
I'll wager you'll have forgotten my name
I think I can picture her now
Young and willing
Oh, it's thrilling!
In a way you'll have me to thank
She'll be perfect
A shop girl, a teacher
The sister of a preacher, or a widow with cash in the bank!
Poor Monty
Cosy in a cottage for two
Oh Monty
Soon there'll be three
Nothing will stop your assent to the top
You'll own your own shop
Monty I guarantee
And I'll rue the day I turned you away
And I will say to myself:
Poor me
I can picture us now;
Very grand, in demand
Always somewhere exciting to go
All of Mayfair will imitate us
Love us and hate us
For being the people people want to know
My husband
Will grow distinguished and grey
My husband
Will always be:
Straight as a line
Steady and fine
Totally mine
Unfortunately
Dry as a bone
An insufferable drone
Dull as a stone
Poor me