I used to fall in love with all
those art forms that
lay claim to beauty,
but now I find I'm most inclined
To keep my mind
on my duty —
Since I've begun to share
In such a complex affair . . .
Though I'm in love, I'm not above
a date with a gal who wears Prada;
it's just a pose, 'cause my baby knows
that my Art belongs to Dada.
Eloping off
with someone rich and soft
I might make a run for the ladder,
but if I do I won't follow through,
'cause my Art belongs to Dada.
(Chorus)
Yes, my Art belongs to Dada
so it simply couldn't be bad;
oh, my Art belongs to Dada —
Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada!
Oh, I hate to make you sadder,
for I know that you're perfectly swell,
but my Art belongs to Dada
because Dada treats it so well!
(Instrumental w. kazoo and two ukeleles)
If I invite a tootsie some night
to dine on my jumbo-shrimp platter,
I just adore her asking for more
but my Art belongs to Dada.
When some Girl Scout
up and asks me out
to snack on her tapenade
my baby's sure, her love is secure
'cause my Art belongs to Dada.
(Chorus)
Yes, my Art belongs to Dada
so it simply couldn't be bad;
oh, my Art belongs to Dada —
Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada!
Oh, I hate to make you sadder,
for I know that you're perfectly swell,
but my Art belongs to Dada
because Dada treats it so well!
(Instrumental w. kazoo and two ukeleles)
If this honey pleads
and speaks of her needs
and begs for my hot enchilada,
her Spanish rice may be all very nice,
but my Art belongs to Dada.
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So if you feel romantic, Jada,
let me warn you right from the start
that my Art belongs to Dada
and my Dada belongs to my Art.
(Chorus)
Yes, my Art belongs to Dada
so it simply couldn't be bad!
Yes, I'm gonna marry Dada —
Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada!
Oh, I hate to make you sadder,
for I'm sure that you're perfectly swell;
but my Art belongs to Dada
because Dada treats it so well!
(Instrumental w. kazoo and two ukeleles)
The bourgeois were aghast
at our scorn for the past
and our unruly acts made them madder;
we had the first laugh,
and now have the last,
at the high auction prices for Dada.
I see you, pard,
down there laughing so hard
you might lose control of your bladder;
well, if you do, it's no shame on you —
sign that puddle and call it Dada!
Everybody sing:
(Chorus)
Yes, our Art belongs to Dada
so it simply couldn't be bad!
Oh, our Art belongs to Dada —
Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada, Dada!
Now, we hate to make you sadder,
for we know that you're perfectly swell,
but our Art belongs to Dada
because Dada treats it so well!
(Instrumental w. kazoo and two ukeleles while leaving stage)
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