[Verse]

(Flora.) It's awful to have handed a good man the icy No;
But I must tell you candid that you haven't got a show:
The sort I like are dressy men, who look refined and swell,
A well pressed pair of pants affects me more than tongue can tell
(Mac G.) I'm not the kind of specimen for which you've always fell. But,

[Burthen]

Why judge a play by the poster on the wall?
Why judge the goods by the label?
Why judge a guy by his clothes? For after all,
He dresses just as well as he is able.

Treat with suspicion ginks who've got the soup and fish on,
For too often they play a villains part.
And rags are royal raiment when they're worn for virtue's sake;
And a sweater may conceal an honest heart.

[Verse]

(Flora.) I'm awful sentimental, and I hate to have you say
Though you're a prefect gentleman, your face stands in the way
I'd leave my home to follow boys, when they are long on looks;
I want a man like them Greek Gods, you read about in books!
(Mac G.) Forget it! those Apollo boys are all abunch of crooks. Say!

[Burthen]

Why judge a play by the poster on the wall?
Why judge the goods by the label?
Why judge a guy by his looks? For after all,
You bet he looks as pretty as he's able.

Don't go preferring ginks that ain't got nothing stirring,
For good looks are too often but a screen.
A handsome face may lie beneath a head that's made of bone,
And a homely mug may hide a clever bean.

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