Now Mr. Woo was a laundry man
In a shop with an old green door
He’d iron all day, your linen away
He really makes me sore
He lost his heart to a Chi- nese girl
And his laundry’s all gone wrong
All day he’ll flirt and starch your shirt
And that’s why I’m singing this song
Oh! Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.
This funny feeling keeps round me stealing
Oh won’t you throw your sweetheart over, do.
My vest's so short, now it won’t fit my little brother
And my new Sunday shirt has got a perforated rudder
Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.
Now Mr. Woo, he’s got a naughty eye that flickers
You ought to see it wobble when he’s ironing ladies blouses
Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.
Now Mr. Woo, he’s got a laundry kind of tricky,
He starched my shirts and collars
But he never touched me waistcoat
Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.
Mr. Woo, what shall I do
I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.