The Laughing Song Lyrics - Charlotte Church

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My dear Marquis, why must you be,
So loathe to use your eyes?
When you stop and stare
Take a lot more care
And closely scrusitnise

My fingers, my ankles, my feet.
Ha ha ha ha ha
How shapely and trim and petite.
Ha ha ha ha ha
Both accent and inflection,
Show polish to perfection.
Such graces,
Are the traces of our old elite.
Such graces,
Are the traces of our old elite.

I marvel how a man like you,
Could fail to see my blood was blue!
What a friendly, ha ha ha
Situation, ha ha ha
What a startling, ha ha ha
revelation, ha ha ha ha ha
What a friendly, ha ha ha
Situation, ha ha ha haaaa aaaa aaa aaaa
Ahhhh aaahhhhhh
Marquis oh what a wag you are!

Profiles they say
Gives the game away.
When formed with classic grace

If the head on view,
Isn't much to you,
Then look at me sideface!

What evidence more can there be?, ha ha ha ha ha
I sing at soiress without fee
Bestowing my attention
With lofty condescension.
Such graces,
Are the traces of a pedigree.
Such graces,
Are the traces of a pedigree.

All's one to you though I'm afraid
Because you love a parlour maid!
What a friendly, ha ha ha
Situation, ha ha ha
What a startling, ha ha ha
Revelation, ha ha ha ha ha

What a friendly, ha ha ha
Situation, ha ha ha haaaa aaaa aaa aaaaa
Ahhhh aaahhhhhh ahhh aaahhh aahhh
Ahhhhh aaaaahhhhhh aaaaahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhaaaaahhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhaaaaahhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhh
Ahhhhhaaaa
ahhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhh Ahhhhhhhhhhh
aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

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