The Girl At The Ironing Board
Composer(s): Harry Warren - Al Dubin
Performer(s): Joan Blondell; Busby Berkeley; The Chorines
Many a poor little rich girl is sad
Inside of a palace of gold
She's never known all the dreams that I've had
Her life is completely cold
But a girl who works in a laundry
Has a dream lover all of her own
A lover unseen, whose love she keeps clean
With water and soap, and a washing machine
Oh, she loves to launder his linen
Ev'ry collar and shirt is adored
And she loves all the stitches
In his flannel britches
The girl at the ironing board
Scrub and rub, rub and scrub
We do the neighborhood washing
Scrub and rub in a tub
Rub-a-dub-dub, boop-a-doo!
Just a girl who works in a laundry
Who's in love with a man of her dreams
Her lover unseen, whose clothes she keeps clean
With water and soap, and a washing machine
When she sees a button is missing
She'll replace it of her own accord
As she fondles each sock
She can love him by proxy
The girl at the ironing board
I know a princess somewhere in this land
Who leans o'er a washtub each day
But o'er the washtub her daydreams are grand
Even the soap-suds can't wash them away
But a girl who works in a laundry
Has a dream lover all of her own
A lover unseen, whose love she keeps clean
With water and soap, and a washing machine
Oh, she loves to launder his linen
Ev'ry collar and shirt is adored
And she loves all the stitches
In his flannel britches
The girl at the ironing board
Scrub and rub, rub and scrub
We do the neighborhood washing
Scrub and rub in a tub
Rub-a-dub-dub, boop-a-doo!
Just a girl who works in a laundry
Who's in love with a man of her dreams
Her lover unseen, whose clothes she keeps clean
With water and soap, and a washing machine
When she sees a button is missing
She'll replace it of her own accord
As she fondles each sock
She can love him by proxy
The girl at the ironing board
I know a princess somewhere in this land
Who leans o'er a washtub each day
But o'er the washtub her daydreams are grand
Even the soap-suds can't wash them away
Up in the steam clouds her dream man she sees
A palace around her soon grows
Mangles keep churning out love melodies
Soap suds just smell like the pure eau-de-rose
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