Gilda

Put the blame on Mame, boys
Put the blame on Mame
Rita Hayworth is Gilda
Gilda is a real swell dame
In a wrap-round robe of liquid gold
One glove on, one off
An angel in blue
From head to toe
Entirely made for love

Put the blame on Mame, boys
Mame or Lili Marlene
Leaning on the Hollywood ponybar
Keeping an eye on the game
Johnny, when your birthday comes
She'll whisper in your ear
She'll treat you so sweet
You'll wish you had birthdays
Every night of the week

You hate this hair
You hate this face
You hate these breasts and this body
But hate is such a very exciting emotion
Don't you find, Johnny?

Put the blame on Mame, boys
Go ahead, pick on a dame
Her heart belongs to Daddy
Because Daddy's the man who's paying
Europe is a very big continent
But she'll conquer it if anyone can
Inch by inch
Mile by mile
Man by man

You hate this hair
You hate this face
You hate these breasts and this body
But hate is such a very exciting emotion
Don't you find, Johnny?

You hate this style
You hate this grace
As you sit cross-legged in your study
Hate is a very stimulating thing
In certain hands, buddy

In Rio de Janeiro, so rich and so unreal
She sings at a casino with trick mirrors and rigged wheels
That song from Casablanca, you must remember this
When love is hate and hate is lust
A kiss is never just a kiss, Johnny