You see, sir, a man infatuate with love 
Her ardent and eager slave 
So fetch the pomade and pumice stone 
And lend me a more seductive tone 
sprinkling perhaps of French cologne 
But first, sir, I think, a shave 
The closest I ever gave 
You’re in a merry mood today, Mr. Todd. 
Tis your delight, sir, catching fire 
From one man to the next 
Tis [bad word]  sir, love can still inspire 
The blood to pound the heart leap higher 
What more 
Сan man require then love, sir can man require 
More then love, sir 
What, sir? 
Woman. 
Yes, woman. 
Pretty woman. 
(звучит тема «Мой друг») 
Make haste, and if we wed 
You’ll [bad word]  sir. 
My lord 
And who, may it be said 
Is your intended, sir? 
My ward 
pretty little rosebud. 
Pretty as her mother? 
What? What was that? 
Nothing, sir. Nothing. 
May we proceed? 
Pretty women 
Fascinating 
Sipping coffee, dancing 
Pretty women 
Are a wonder 
Pretty women 
Sitting in the window or 
Standing on the stair 
Something in them cheers the air 
Pretty women 
Silhouetted 
Stay within you glancing! 
Stay forever 
Breathing lightly 
Pretty women 
Pretty women 
Blowing out their candles or [bad word] out their hair 
Then they leave Even when they leave 
Even when they you and vanish They still 
They somehow can still remain Are there 
There with you They’re there 
Pretty women 
At their mirrors 
In their gardens 
Letter-writing 
Flower-picking 
Weather-watching 
How they make a man sing 
Proof of heaven 
As you’re living 
Pretty women, Sir! 
Pretty women, yes! 
Pretty women, Sir! 
Pretty women! Pretty women!