MIDI

LUTIN:

In yonder world, which devils strew

With worry, grief, and pain in plenty,

This maxim is accounted true

With nemine dissentiente:

A woman doth the mischief brew

In nineteen cases out of twenty!

A woman doth the mischief brew

In nineteen cases out of twenty!

In all the woes

That joy displace,

In all the blows

That bring disgrace

On much enduring human race,

There's ever a lady in the case!

On much enduring human race,

There's ever a lady in the case!

Yes, that's the fix

We have to face -

Her whims and tricks

Throughout you trace.

In all the woes that curse our race

There is a lady, a lady, a lady in the case.

Yes, that's the fix

They have to face -

Her whims and tricks

Throughout they trace.

In all the woes that curse {our/their} race

There is a lady, a lady, a lady in the case.

If Woman from great Nature's scheme

Were utterly eliminated,

Unruffled peace would reign supreme,

No quarrels would be propagated.

But that is a Utopian dream

Of mortals unsophisticated!

Yes, that is a Utopian dream

Of mortals unsophisticated!

It's true that foes

Might then embrace,

And earthly woes

Dissolve apace,

But where would be the human race

With never a lady in the case?

But where would be the human race

With never a lady in the case?

Yes, that's the rub

We have to face -

It gives a snub

That kills the case.

What would become of all our race

With never a lady, a lady, a lady in the case?

Yes, that's the rub

They have to face -

It gives a snub

That kills the case.

What would become of all {our/their} race

With never a lady, a lady, a lady in the case?

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