SOCIETY WOMAN: I met him at a party Just a couple of years ago He was rather over-hearty and ridiculous But as I'd seen him on the screen he cast a certain spell I basked in his attraction For a couple of hours or so His manners were a fraction too meticulous If he was real or not I couldn't tell But like a silly fool I fell Mad about the boy I know it's stupid to be mad about the boy I'm so ashamed of it But must admit The sleepless nights I've had About the boy On the silver screen He melts my foolish heart in every single scene Although I'm quite aware That here and there Are traces of the cad About the boy Lord knows I'm not a fool-girl I really shouldn't care Lord knows I'm not a school-girl In the flurry of her first affair Will it ever cloy This odd diversity of misery and joy I'm feeling quite insane and young again And all because I'm mad about the boy SCHOOL GIRL: Home work, home work Every night there's homework While Elsie practices the gas goes pop I wish, I wish she'd stop Oh dear, oh dear Here it's always, 'No dear You can't go out again, you must stay home You'd waste your money on that common Picturedrome Don't shirk—stay here and do your work.' Yearning, yearning How my heart is burning I'll see him Saturday in Strong Man's Pain And then on Monday and on Friday week again To me, he is the sole man Who can kiss as well as Coleman I could faint whenever there's a close-up of his lips Though John Barrymore is larger When my hero's on his charger Even Douglass Fairbanks Junior hasn't smaller hips If only he could know That I adore him so Mad about the boy It's simply scrumptous to be mad about the boy I know that quite sincerely Houseman really Wrote The Shropshire Lad about the boy In my English prose I've done a tracing of his forehead and his nose And there is, honour bright A certain slight Effect of Galahad about the boy I've talked to Rosie Hooper She feels the same as me She says that Gary Cooper Doesn't thrill her to the same degree In Can Love Destroy? He meets with Garbo in a suit of corduroy He gives a little frown And knocks her down Oh dear, of dear, I'm mad about the boy COCKNEY: Every Wednesday afternoon I get a little time off from three to eleven Then I go to the picture house and taste a little of my particular heaven He appears In a little while Through a mist of tears I can see him smiling Above me Every picture I see him in Every lovers' caress Makes my wonderful dreams begin Makes me long to confess That if he ever looked at me And thought perhaps I was worth the trouble to Love me I'd give in and I wouldn't care However far from the path of virtue he'd Shove me! Just supposing our love was brief If he treated me rough I'd be happy beyond belief Once would be enough Mad about the boy I know I'm potty but I'm mad about the boy! He sets me 'eart on fire With love's desire In fact I've got it bad about the boy! When I do the rooms I see his face in all the brushes and the brooms! Last week I strained me back And got the sack And had a row with dad about the boy I'm finished with Navarro, (He thrills me to the marrow) I'm tired of Richard Dix, (I sit through all his tricks!) I'm pierced by Cupid's arrow Every Wed-nes-day, from four to six! 'Ow I should enjoy To let 'im treat me like a plaything or a toy I'd give my all to 'im And crawl to 'im So 'elp me God, I'm mad about the boy TART: It seems a little silly For a girl my age and weight To walk down Piccadilly In a haze of love It ought to take a good deal more to get a bad girl down I should have been exempt, for My particular kind of fate Has taught me such contempt for Every phase of love And now I've been and spent my last half-crown To weep about a painted clown Mad about the boy It's pretty funny but I'm mad about the boy He has a gay appeal That makes me feel There may be something sad about the boy Walking down the street His eyes look out at me from people that I meet I can't believe it's true But when I'm blue In some strange way I'm glad about the boy I'm hardly sentimental Love isn't so sublime I have to pay my rental And I can't afford to waste much time If I could employ A little magic that would finally destroy This dream that pains me And enchains me But I can't because I'm mad about the boy
Read the complete lyrics to "Mad About the Boy" by Noël Coward from the album "Words and Music" in 1932. On Lyrks you can follow along with the full text, explore the artist's discography, and discover related songs. The track is often categorized under Pop.
"Mad About the Boy" is performed by Noël Coward. from the album "Words and Music" in 1932 This page provides the full lyric text for fans who want to sing along, study the songwriting, or compare versions across releases. Lyrks organizes lyrics by artist and song slug so you can bookmark and share a stable URL.
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"Mad About the Boy" is credited to Noël Coward. Songwriting credits may include additional writers listed on the release; check the credits section on this page for linked collaborators.
"Mad About the Boy" appears on "Words and Music" in 1932.
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