Selected lyrics for songs from the Queer Music Before Stonewall special:

"Ain't No Sweet Man Worth the Salt of My
Tears"

Shakin' like a leaf on a tree,
That's coming loose from the stem;
Shakin' like a leaf on a tree,
Because I'm coming loose from my man!

I'm like a weeping willow,
Weeping on my pillow,
For years and years,
There ain't no sweet man that's worth the salt of my
Ba-ba-da-doo, wah da da da do, wah da da ba do,
wha da-oh!

Down and down he dragged me,
Like a fiend he nagged me,
For years and years,
There ain't no sweet man that's worth the salt of my
Ba da da da da da do!

Although I may be blue,
Still, I'm true,
I must tell him good-bye!
Rather than have that man,
Gonna lay me down and just die!
Da-oh!

Broken-hearted sisters,
Aggravating misters, lend me your ears!
There ain't no sweet man that's worth the salt of my
Ba-ba-da-doo, wah da da da do, wah da da ba do,
wha da-oh!
Ba-da wah da-oh! Shh!

"Gay Love"

The silvery moon finds me alone tonight,
With only thoughts of you;
The little stars are twinkling oh, so bright;
No wonder I am blue.

Like a ray of sun with flaring light,
You have brought the love that's burning;
The happy spell of you now holds me tight;
For you I keep on yearning.

Gay love, with your heart I will play, love,
Until you come my way, love,
I'll be waiting for you.

Your love, is the kind I adore, love,
Something worth living for, love,
Every word, dear, is true.

Your magic arms are always haunting,
Wanting you near to me,
Your fiery eyes are so entrancing, glancing,
romancing!

Gay love, won't you promise and say, love,
You will be mine someday, love,
And that you love me true!

Your magic arms are always haunting,
Wanting you near to me,
Your fiery eyes are so entrancing, glancing,
romancing!

Gay love, won't you promise and say, love,
You will be mine someday, love,
And that you love me true!

The Physician"
Music and Lyrics by Cole Porter

Once I loved such a shattering physician,
Quite the best-looking doctor in the state.
He looked after my physical condition,
And his bedside manner was great.
When I'd gaze up and see him there above me,
Looking less like a doctor than a Turk,
I was tempted to shisper, "Do you love me,
Or do you merely love your work?"

He said my bronchial tubes were entrancing,
My epiglottis filled him with glee,
He simply loved my larynx
And went wild about my pharynx,
But he never said he loved me.
He said my epidermis was darling,
And found my blood as blue as could be,
We went through wild ecstatics,
When I showed him my lymphatics,
But he never said he loved me.
And though, no doubt,
It was not very smart of me,
I kept on a-wracking my soul
To figure out
Why he loved ev'ry part of me,
And yet not me as a whole.
With my esophagus he was ravished,
Enthusiastic to a degree,
He said 'twas just enormous,
My appendix vermiformis,
But he never said he loved me.

He said my cerebellum was brilliant,
And my cerebrum far from N.G.,
I know he though a lotta
My medulla oblongata,
But he never said he loved me.
He said my maxillaries were marvels,
And found my sternum stunning to see,
He did a double hurdle
When I shook my pelvic girdle,
But he never said he loved me.
He seemed amused
When he first made a test of me
To further his medical art,
Yet he refused
When he'd fix up the rest of me,
To cure that ache in my heart.
I know he thought my pancreas perfect,
And for my spleen was keen as could be,
He said of all his sweeties,
I'd the sweetest diabetes,
But he never said he loved me.

He said my vertebrae were "sehr schone,"
And called my coccyx "plus que gentil,"
He murmured "molto bella,"
When I sat on his patella,
But he never said he loved me.
He took a fleeting look at my thorax,
And started singing slightly off key,
He cried, "May Heaven strike us,"
When I played my umbilicus,
But he never said he loved me.
As it was dark,
I suggested we walk about
Before he returned to his post.
Once in the park,
I induced him to talk about
The thing I wanted the most.
He lingered on with me until morning,
Yet when I tried to pay him his fee,
He said, "Why, don't be funny,
It is I who owe you money,"
But he never said he loved me.

"Green Carnation"

Blasé boys are we
Exquisitely free
From the dreary and quite absurd
Moral views of the common herd
We like porphyry bowls
Chandeliers and stoles
We're most spirited, carefully filleted souls

Pretty boys, witty boys, too, too, too
Lazy to fight stagnation
Haughty boys, naughty boys, all we do
Is to pursue sensation
The portals of society are always open'd wide
The world our eccentricity condones
A lot of quaint variety we're certain to provide
We dress in very decorative tones
Faded boys, jaded boys, wormankind's
Gift to a bulldog nation
In order to distinguish us from less
enlightened minds
We all wear a green carnation

Pretty boys, witty boys, you may sneer
At our disintegration
Haughty boys, naughty boys, dear, dear, dear
Swooning with affectation
Our figures sleek and willowy
Our lips incarnadine
May worry the majority a bit
But matrons rich and billowy
Invite us out to dine
And revel in our phosphorescent wit
Faded boys, jaded boys, come what may
Art is our inspiration
And as we are the reason for the
nineties being gay
We all wear a green carnation

"The Man I Love"

Someday he'll come along, the man I love
And he'll be big and strong, the man I love
And when he comes my way
I'll do my best to make him stay

He'll look at me and smile,
I'll understand
And in a little while he'll take my hand
And though it seems absurd
I know we both won't say a word

Maybe I shall meet him Sunday
Maybe Monday, maybe not
Still I'm sure to meet him one day
Maybe Tuesday will be my good news day

He'll build a little home,
just meant for two
From which we'll never roam;
Who would, would you?
And so all else above I'm
waiting for the man I love