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You're a Queer One, Julie Jordan - Lyrics

Do you like him?
I don't know.
Did you like it
When he talked to you today?
When he put you
On the carousel that way?
Did you like that?
I'd rather not say.
You're a queer one,
Julie Jordan;
You are quieter
And deeper than a whale.
And you never
Tell me nothin'.
There's nothin' that I care
Or choose to tell.
You've been actin'
Most peculiar:
Every morning you're awake
Ahead of me.
Always sittin'
By the window.
I like to watch
The river meet
The sea
When we work at the mill,
Weavin' at the loom,
You gaze absentminded
At the roof.
And half the time your shottle
Gets twisted with the thread
'Til you can't tell the warp from the woof.
You're a queer one, Julie Jordan;
You won't ever tell ol' Bobby what you think.
You're as tight-lipped as an oyster
And as silent as an old Sahara sphynk.
You spell it with an "x."
That's only when there's more than one.
Julie, I've been bustin' to tell you somethin' lately.
Reason I didn't care to tell you before was 'cause you didn't have a feller of your own.
Now you got one, I can tell you 'bout mine.
Oh, I'm glad you got a feller, Carrie!
What's his name?
His name is Mister Snow
And an upstanded man is he.
He comes home every night
In his round bottomed boat
With a net full of herring from the sea.
An almost perfect beau
As refined as a girl could wish.
But he spends so much time in his round bottomed boat
That he can't seem to lose his smell of fish.
The first time he kissed me,
The whiff of his clothes knocked me flat
On the floor of the room.
But now that I love him,
My heart's in my nose
And fish is my favorite perfume.
Last night he spoke quite low --
And a fair-spoken man is he --
And he said, "Miss Pipperidge,
I'd like it fine
if I could be wed with a wife.
And indeed, Miss Pipperidge,
If you'll be mine,
I'll be yours for the rest of my life."
Next moment we were promised
And now my mind's in a maze,
For all it can do is look forward to
That wonderful of days.
When I marry Mister Snow,
The flowers will be buzzin' with a home of bees;
The birds will make a racket in the churchyard trees
When I marry Mister Snow.
Then it's off to home we'll go
And both of us will look a little dreamy-eyed
Drivin' to a cottage by the oceanside
Where the salty breezes blow.
He'll carry me 'cross the threshold
And I'll be as meek as a lamb.
Then he'll set me on my feet
And I'll say kind and sweet,
"Well, Mister Snow, here I am!"
Then I'll kiss him so he'll know
That everything'll be as right as right can be
Livin' in a cottage by the sea with me
For I love that Mister Snow,
That young seafarin',
Bold and darin'
Big beef wisker,
Darlin' Mister Snow.

Writer(s): Richard Rodgers, Oscar Hammerstein Ii

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