Nobody Makes A Pass At Me Lyrics by Barbra Streisand

Nobody Makes A Pass At Me

Performed by barbra streisand

I want men that I can squeeze, that I can please, that I can tease
Two or three or four or more!
What are those fools waiting for?
I want love and I want kissing I want more of what Im missing

Nobody comes knocking at my front door
What do they think my knockers for?
If they dont come soon there wont be any more!
What can the matter be?

I wash my clothes with lux, my etiquettes the best,
I spend my hard-earned bucks on just what the ads suggest
Oh dear what can the matter be
Nobody makes a pass at me!

Im full of kelloggs bran, eat grapenuts on the sly,
A date is on the can of coffee that I buy
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me!

Oh beatrice fair-fax, give me the bare facts,
How do you make them fall?
If you dont save me, the things the lord gave me
Never will be any use to me at all.

I sprinkle on a dash of "fragrance de amour,"
The ads say "makes men rash" but I guess their smell is pour
Oh dear what can the matter be
Nobody makes a pass at me.

I use ovaltine and listerine, barbasol and musterole
Life buoy soap and flit, so why aint I got it?

I use coca cola and marmola, crisco, lesco and mazola,
Ex-lax and vapex, so why aint I got sex?

I use albolene and maybellene, alka seltzer, bromo seltzer,
Odorono and sensation
So why aint I got fascination?

My girdles come from the best, times ads say theyre chick
And up above Im dressed in the brassier of the week
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me!

I use ponds on my skin, with rye-crisp I have thinned
I get my culture in I began "gone with the wind"
Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me!

Oh dorthy dix, please, show me some tricks,
Please, I want some men to hold
I want attention and things I cant mention
And I want them all before I get too old

I use mum evry day and angelus liplure,
But still men stay away just like ivry soap Im pure
Just like I result of 99 and 44
One hundred percent p.o.
Oh dear what can the matter be?
Nobody makes a pass at me