CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Ah, But Underneath
Never judge a book by its cover...
The thing that counts is what's inside
Never judge a lady by her lover...
It isn't a reliable guide
The lady may decide her obligations
Are merely to reflect his expectations
If his idea of ecstasy's
To see what he expects to see --
Well, ignorance is bliss
But think of what he'll miss...
She was smart, tart, dry as a martini
Ah, but underneath...
She was all heart, something by Puccini
Ah, but underneath...
In the depths of her interior
Were fears she was inferior
And something even eerier
But no one dared to query her superior exterior
She was chic, sleek, anything in fashion
That was just a shell
Take a close peek, you could see the passion
That was one as well
To conclude, you'd soon discover the secret of her appeal
Was the wonder which lay underneath
Which she wasn't about to reveal
She was sly, wry, cool or coy or candid
That was her liability, the curse of versatility
Smart, shy, whatever was demanded
She'd only allow a man to see enough to fan his fantasy
She made compliance into a science
One of the giants
Loud or lewd or lah-di-dah-dee
Everything to everybody
As changeable as a chameleon with all that entails
But nobody saw what was really underneath all those veils
She was grand, bland, brave or brisk or brittle
Anything required...
Both concerned and strictly non-committal
And a little tired...
She was deftly deferential, or so they wrote on her wreath
No one ever glimpsed her potential
But when stripped down to the essential...
Mind you, this is confidential...
Way down underneath!
She was...
She was...
She was...
Sometimes when the wrappings fall
There's nothing underneath at all!
The thing that counts is what's inside
Never judge a lady by her lover...
It isn't a reliable guide
The lady may decide her obligations
Are merely to reflect his expectations
If his idea of ecstasy's
To see what he expects to see --
Well, ignorance is bliss
But think of what he'll miss...
She was smart, tart, dry as a martini
Ah, but underneath...
She was all heart, something by Puccini
Ah, but underneath...
In the depths of her interior
Were fears she was inferior
And something even eerier
But no one dared to query her superior exterior
She was chic, sleek, anything in fashion
That was just a shell
Take a close peek, you could see the passion
That was one as well
To conclude, you'd soon discover the secret of her appeal
Was the wonder which lay underneath
Which she wasn't about to reveal
She was sly, wry, cool or coy or candid
That was her liability, the curse of versatility
Smart, shy, whatever was demanded
She'd only allow a man to see enough to fan his fantasy
She made compliance into a science
One of the giants
Loud or lewd or lah-di-dah-dee
Everything to everybody
As changeable as a chameleon with all that entails
But nobody saw what was really underneath all those veils
She was grand, bland, brave or brisk or brittle
Anything required...
Both concerned and strictly non-committal
And a little tired...
She was deftly deferential, or so they wrote on her wreath
No one ever glimpsed her potential
But when stripped down to the essential...
Mind you, this is confidential...
Way down underneath!
She was...
She was...
She was...
Sometimes when the wrappings fall
There's nothing underneath at all!
