Now Mr. Woo was a laundry man

In a shop with an old green door

He’d iron all day, your linen away

He really makes me sore

He lost his heart to a Chi- nese girl

And his laundry’s all gone wrong

All day he’ll flirt and starch your shirt

And that’s why I’m singing this song

Oh! Mr. Woo, what shall I do

I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.

This funny feeling keeps round me stealing

Oh won’t you throw your sweetheart over, do.

My vest's so short, now it won’t fit my little brother

And my new Sunday shirt has got a perforated rudder

Mr. Woo, what shall I do

I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.

Now Mr. Woo, he’s got a naughty eye that flickers

You ought to see it wobble when he’s ironing ladies blouses

Mr. Woo, what shall I do

I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.

Now Mr. Woo, he’s got a laundry kind of tricky,

He starched my shirts and collars

But he never touched me waistcoat

Mr. Woo, what shall I do

I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.

Mr. Woo, what shall I do

I’m feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese laun- dry blues.