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Nobody Makes a Pass at Me Lyrics

"Nobody Makes a Pass at Me" was written by Rome, Harold J.
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"Nobody Makes a Pass at Me" was written by Rome, Harold J.
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I want men that I can squeeze, that I can please, that I can tease
Two or three or four or more
What are those fools waiting for?
I want love and I want kissing I want more of what I'm missing

Nobody comes knocking at my front door
What do they think my knocker's for?
If they don't come soon there won't be any more
What can the matter be?

I wash my clothes with lux, my etiquette's the best
I spend my hard-earned bucks on just what the ads suggest
Oh dear what can the matter be
Nobody makes a pass at me

I'm full of kellogg's bran, eat grapenuts on the sly
A date is on the can of coffee that I buy
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me

Oh beatrice fair-fax, give me the bare facts
How do you make them fall?
If you don't save me, the things the lord gave me
Never will be any use to me at all

I sprinkle on a dash of "fragrance de amour,"
The ads say "makes men rash" but I guess their smell is pour
Oh dear what can the matter be
Nobody makes a pass at me

I use ovaltine and listerine, barbasol and musterole
Life buoy soap and flit, so why ain't I got it?
I use coca cola and marmola, crisco, lesco and mazola
Ex-lax and vapex, so why ain't I got sex?
I use albolene and maybellene, alka seltzer, bromo seltzer
Odorono and sensation
So why ain't I got fascination?

My girdles come from the best, times ads say they're chic
And up above I'm dressed in the brassier of the week
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me

I use pond's on my skin, with rye-crisp I have thinned
I get my culture in I began "gone with the wind"
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me

Oh dor'thy dix, please, show me some tricks
Please, I want some men to hold
I want attention and things I can't mention
And I want them all before I get too old

I use mum ev'ry day and angelus liplure
But still men stay away just like iv'ry soap I'm pure
Just like I result of 99 and 44
One hundred percent p.o
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me

Songwriters
Rome, Harold J

Published by
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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