CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Auto-da-fé
What a day, what a day
For an auto-da-fé!
What a sunny summer sky!
What a day, what a day
For an auto-da-fé!
It's a lovely day for drinking
And for watching people fry!
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Watch 'em die!
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hang 'em high!
See the great Russian bear!
Buy a comb for your hair!
But the price is much too high!
Here be potions and pills
For your fevers and chills!
But we haven't any money
So there's nothing we can buy!
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Bought and sold!
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Turned to gold!
Pots and pans
Metal cans
Bought or traded or sold!
I can turn them into gold!
Pans and pots
And what-nots!
Trading new ones for old!
For a tiny fee
My alchemy
Can turn them into gold!
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Come and buy! Hah!
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Come and try!
What a fair, what a fair!
Things to buy everywherе
But the prices are too high!
It's not fair, it's not fair
Things to buy еverywhere
But we haven't any money
So there's nothing we can buy!
But you can't execute me; I'm too sick to die!
What d'ya mean sick?
Oh my darling Paquette
She is haunting me yet
With a dear souvenir
I shall never forget
'Twas a gift that she got
From a seafaring Scot
He received he believed in Shalott!
In Shalott from his dame
Who was certain it came
With a kiss from a Swiss
(She'd forgotten his name)
But he told her that he
Had been given it free
By a sweet little cheat in Paree
Then a man from Japan
Then a Moor from Iran
But the Moor isn't sure
How the whole thing began
But the gift you can see
Had a long pedigree
When at last it was pa**ed on to me!
Then a man from Japan
Then a Moor from Iran
Though the Moor isn't sure
How the whole thing began
But the gift we can see
Had a long pedigree
When at last it was pa**ed on to he!
Love is sweet, love is sweet
And the custom is sound
For it makes the world go 'round
I repeat, love is sweet
And the custom is sound
For as we/I have shown it's love alone
That makes the world go 'round
Well, the Moor in the end
Spent a night with a friend
And the dear souvenir
Just continued the trend
To a young English lord
Who was stung, they record
By a wasp in a hospital ward!
Well, the wasp on the wing
Had occasion to sting
A Milano soprano
Who brought home the thing
To her young paramour
Who was rendered impure
And forsook her to look for the cure
Thus he happened to pa**
Through Westphalia, alas
Where he met with Paquette
And she drank from his gla**
I was pleased as could be
When it came back to me
Makes us all just a small family!
Oh, he happened to pa**
Through Westphalia, alas
Where he met with Paquette
And she drank from his gla**
I am/He is pleased as can be
For it shows us/him that we
One and all are a small family!
What a day, what a day
For an auto-da-fé!
What a lovely day for drinking
And for watching people fry!
What a day, what a day
Oh, what a day, what a day
Oh, what a day
What a perfect day for hanging!
Silence!
Shall we let the sinners go or try them?
Try them
Are the culprits innocent or guilty?
Guilty
Shall we pardon them or hang them?
Hang them
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
He don't mix meat and dairy
He don't eat humble pie
So sing a miserere
And hang the b*st*rd high!
Are our methods legal or illegal?
Legal
Are we judges of the law, or laymen?
Amen
Shall we hang them or forget them?
Get them!
What a perfect day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a perfect day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
When foreigners like this come
To criticize and spy
We chant a pax vobisc*m
And hang the b*st*rd high!
The supreme moment has arrived
All ye faithful—genuflect!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, pray for us, pray for us!
Fons pietatis
Pray for us!
Davidis turris
Pray for us!
Rex majestatis
Pray for us!
Davidis turris
Pray for us!
Fons pietatis, pray for us!
Davidis turris, pray for us!
Pray for us!
Pray for us!
Pray for us!
Pray for us!
Ladies and gentlemen, one final word
God in his wisdom made it possible to invent the rope...
Aaargh
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
At last we can be cheery
The danger's pa**ed us by
So sing a Dies Irae
And hang the b*st*rd high!
Oh, what a day!
For an auto-da-fé!
What a sunny summer sky!
What a day, what a day
For an auto-da-fé!
It's a lovely day for drinking
And for watching people fry!
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Watch 'em die!
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hang 'em high!
See the great Russian bear!
Buy a comb for your hair!
But the price is much too high!
Here be potions and pills
For your fevers and chills!
But we haven't any money
So there's nothing we can buy!
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Bought and sold!
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Any kind of metal
Turned to gold!
Pots and pans
Metal cans
Bought or traded or sold!
I can turn them into gold!
Pans and pots
And what-nots!
Trading new ones for old!
For a tiny fee
My alchemy
Can turn them into gold!
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Come and buy! Hah!
Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Hurry, hurry, hurry
Come and try!
What a fair, what a fair!
Things to buy everywherе
But the prices are too high!
It's not fair, it's not fair
Things to buy еverywhere
But we haven't any money
So there's nothing we can buy!
But you can't execute me; I'm too sick to die!
What d'ya mean sick?
Oh my darling Paquette
She is haunting me yet
With a dear souvenir
I shall never forget
'Twas a gift that she got
From a seafaring Scot
He received he believed in Shalott!
In Shalott from his dame
Who was certain it came
With a kiss from a Swiss
(She'd forgotten his name)
But he told her that he
Had been given it free
By a sweet little cheat in Paree
Then a man from Japan
Then a Moor from Iran
But the Moor isn't sure
How the whole thing began
But the gift you can see
Had a long pedigree
When at last it was pa**ed on to me!
Then a man from Japan
Then a Moor from Iran
Though the Moor isn't sure
How the whole thing began
But the gift we can see
Had a long pedigree
When at last it was pa**ed on to he!
Love is sweet, love is sweet
And the custom is sound
For it makes the world go 'round
I repeat, love is sweet
And the custom is sound
For as we/I have shown it's love alone
That makes the world go 'round
Well, the Moor in the end
Spent a night with a friend
And the dear souvenir
Just continued the trend
To a young English lord
Who was stung, they record
By a wasp in a hospital ward!
Well, the wasp on the wing
Had occasion to sting
A Milano soprano
Who brought home the thing
To her young paramour
Who was rendered impure
And forsook her to look for the cure
Thus he happened to pa**
Through Westphalia, alas
Where he met with Paquette
And she drank from his gla**
I was pleased as could be
When it came back to me
Makes us all just a small family!
Oh, he happened to pa**
Through Westphalia, alas
Where he met with Paquette
And she drank from his gla**
I am/He is pleased as can be
For it shows us/him that we
One and all are a small family!
What a day, what a day
For an auto-da-fé!
What a lovely day for drinking
And for watching people fry!
What a day, what a day
Oh, what a day, what a day
Oh, what a day
What a perfect day for hanging!
Silence!
Shall we let the sinners go or try them?
Try them
Are the culprits innocent or guilty?
Guilty
Shall we pardon them or hang them?
Hang them
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
He don't mix meat and dairy
He don't eat humble pie
So sing a miserere
And hang the b*st*rd high!
Are our methods legal or illegal?
Legal
Are we judges of the law, or laymen?
Amen
Shall we hang them or forget them?
Get them!
What a perfect day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a perfect day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
When foreigners like this come
To criticize and spy
We chant a pax vobisc*m
And hang the b*st*rd high!
The supreme moment has arrived
All ye faithful—genuflect!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Oh, pray for us, pray for us!
Fons pietatis
Pray for us!
Davidis turris
Pray for us!
Rex majestatis
Pray for us!
Davidis turris
Pray for us!
Fons pietatis, pray for us!
Davidis turris, pray for us!
Pray for us!
Pray for us!
Pray for us!
Pray for us!
Ladies and gentlemen, one final word
God in his wisdom made it possible to invent the rope...
Aaargh
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
What a lovely day, what a jolly day
What a day for a holiday!
At last we can be cheery
The danger's pa**ed us by
So sing a Dies Irae
And hang the b*st*rd high!
Oh, what a day!
