Arnold was an armadillo
And oh so in need of romance
And it chanced that one Saturday evening
He took himself out to the dance
The moment he walked in the room
He saw her as if he had known
She'd be there at the side of the stage
All he wanted, all in black, all alone
She was there, she was his, dressed to kill
Oh, if only his glasses were cleaner
He was an armadillo
She was a concertina
He struggled to make conversation
Leapfrogged from topic to topic
Only she'd say something back
If only he weren't so myopic
Bright silver buttons in rows
Head down to toes in black leather
Could this beauty love him? Here goes
Poor Arnold thought it's now or never
He could picture her head on his pillow
He had loved her the moment he'd seen her
He was an armadillo
She was a concertina
Can't help but feel for the lass
Oh, how happy poor Arnold would be
If they could make love in the shadows
And no one but no one would see
Alas, what he hoped might have been
A sweet secret was soured completely
Sex with a concertina
Is rarely accomplished discreetly
The dancers stopped stripping the willow
It was oh such a loud misdemeanor
He was an armadillo
She was a concertina
Picture love as kind of concerto
Poor Arnold, his first was unfinished
What let everyone who was there know
A very loud C sharp diminished
Somebody said, "Look, it's Arnold!"
And he ran from their scorn and their laughter
Into the darkness outside
And never returned ever after
Tales of lost love and dreams unfulfilled
Oh, cruel Cupid, you've never been meaner
He was an armadillo
She was a concertina
He was an armadillo
She was a concertina
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