I don't know
And the boy cried whopie-didi
There is a woman with a mustache who won't let me be
She was born on a Monday, she's a hundred and four
She's a liar, she's a liar, a little bit more
Say what you wanna, say what you will
Writes her number on my telephone bill
Walk like a monkey, kick like a mule
I could be a beggar, but I'd rather be just as cruel
And the boy cried, hang him at three
Saw him on the front page, laughing at me
He worked in a fairground in a tall hat
He's a liar, he's a liar, a good one at that
Say what you wanna, say what you will
Writes her number on my telephone bill
Walk like a monkey, kick like a mule
I could be a beggar, but I'd rather be just as cruel
