Lyrics:

Everytime I hear that dear old wedding march
I feel rather glad I have a broken arch
I have heard a lot of married people talk
And I know that marriage is a long long walk
To most people weddings mean romance
But I prefer a picnic or a dance
Another bride, another groom
Another sunny honeymoon
Another season, another reason
For making whoopee
The choir sing, 'Here comes the bride.'
Another victim is by her side
He's lost his reason 'cause it's the season
For making whoopee
Down through the countless ages
You'll find it everywhere
Somebody makes good wages
Somebody wants her share
She calls him 'Toodles' and rolls her eyes
She makes him strudels and bakes him pies
What is it all for? It's so he'll fall for
Making whoopee

Another year or maybe less
What's this I hear? Well, can't you guess?
She feels neglected and he's suspected
Of making whoopee
She sits alone most every night
He doesn't phone or even write
He says he's busy, but she says, 'Is he?'
He's making whoopee
He doesn't make much money
Five thousand dollars per
Some judge who thinks he's funny
Says, 'You'll pay six to her.'
He says, 'Now judge, suppose I fail?'
The judge says, 'Bub, right into jail
You'd better keep her, you'll find it's cheaper
Than making whoopee.'