Where Is The Beast In You - Elaine Stritch, Leroy Anderson And His Orchestra

To the naked eye you’re absolutely peerless, You’re brainy, brawny fearless and

you know what you’re about.

And I tell myself you’re such a manly specimen, no matter what a mess I’m in

you’ll surely get me out.

But would you?

Or have I misunderstood you?

When I’m in a crisis and i ask what your advice is, do you know what you’d

answer, do you know what you’d do?

The scene is darkest Africa, the water’s nice and hot, the cannibals have got

me salt and pepper’d for the pot.

Then you come running to the fray and this is what you’d say: «But dearest cannibals have rights just like other people!»

That’s what you’d do,

that’s exactly what you’d do!

Where is the beast in you?

A pair of savage bloodhounds are a thirsting for the kill.

If one dog fails to eat me up the other surely will.

They’re gaining fast, with open jaws, you enter and we pause: «Darling, What did you do to provoke these dogs?»

That’s what you’d do,

that is exactly what you’d do!

Where is the beast in you?

I don’t ask for a high-minded hero, as fair and understanding as can be,

always ready to pursue the other fellow’s point of view, always searching for

the truth to set us free!

He’s a liberal?

Well, Dandy!

It’s just that I demand he be a narrow-minded, small horizoned, partisan,

opinionated, bigoted reactionary mule when it comes to me!

I’m huddled on the doorstep and I cannot pay the rent.

The landlord with the mustache is an evil, leering gent, then through the

blinding snow you come to tell your little chum: «tenants never do understand

these things.

It costs money to run an apartment!»

That’s what you’d do, that is exactly what

you’d do!

Where, oh, Where is the beast in you?