A Portrait Of Cary Grant Lyrics - John Zonn

I'm a dangerous assassin. I'm a mad killer on the loose. 

Cary Grant, 

Was a plant, 

An inside man, with an outside tan, 

Cos Cary Grant, he just can't, he just can't... 

...Control his feet, he looked so alarmed, 

He can't believe that, everyone's so charmed... 

By his air of sophistication, 

Though there were questions about his orientation, 

Always looked, so spick and span, 

A proper, fine, upstanding man, 

He's an example to us all, 

With his transatlantic drawl. 

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So, Cary Grant, 

We're like him, but aren't, 

He was debonair, with his sculpted hair, 

Cos Cary Grant, he just can't, he just can't... 

...Control his feet, they make him dance, 

He spoke the language, of fine romance... 

The nicest feller you could meet, 

He would expect you to be discreet, 

He fell in love with the leading lady, 

His silver tongue, always at the ready, 

He played an actor, playing a part, 

Like a painter, making art. 

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I'm merely trying to play some golf, 

I don't believe it, 

Oh, I do wish you'd trust me, 

Everything's gonna be alright! 

Take that little squirt and beat it! 

Good day, à bientôt, 

Just dropped in for a chat, 

Jumping geehosophat! 

Cary Grant, Cary Grant, he just can't, he just can't...