Capers

I know I’m punching, but my, you’re a sort
We could get in to come real fun
A true gentleman would never name names
What kind of brute do you take me for?
No I’m not in love
I don’t claim to be
But are you free on Sunday?
Do you hear that siren call?
It calls out to me
Like the brapa pum pum of the marching drum
My heart skips a beat
No I’m not in love
I don’t claim to be
But are you free on Sunday?
For I’m planning on a caper such a deed of derring do
And I was hoping I could spend some time with you
As the cartoon anvil above our head appears
Before they ask us to kindly pay the bill