Caroline Diggeby-Pratte

Miss Caroline Diggeby-Pratte was at Roedean
Her daddy is a brigadier, a big wig
Miss Caroline Diggeby-Pratte is seventeen
And she likes men who are sincere, jig-jig
Caroline likes marzipan and pussycats
Caroline's the latest in a very long line of aristocratic Prattes

Somebody may love you, Caroline, hopefully
Caroline, oh callow Caroline, I know it won't be me

Caroline is so romantic
And she likes to walk alone on lonely sands
Just so long as the champagne cocktail
And the glossy gossip columns are on hand
Caroline likes daffodils and waterfalls
She follows the social folderols
The smarty parties, all the horsey balls

Oh somebody may love you, Caroline, helplessly
Caroline, oh callow Caroline, you bet it won't be me

Caroline would like a man of simple tastes
Who runs a sporty Porsche
Who would give her jewels, and now and then a trace
Of elegant intercourse - of course
But he would have to know what everybody knows
The moon shines out of Caroline's
Out of Caroline's little turned-up nose

Somebody may love you, Caroline, hopelessly
Caroline, oh callow Caroline, he'll love you hopelessly
Somebody will marry Caroline. God know what he will be
Caroline, oh callow Caroline, God knows it won't be me