Glenn Close - The Lady's Paying Lyrics

Hurry up, the birthday boy is on his way
This is a surprise celebration
I hope you've remembered everything I've said
I want to see a total transformation

What's all this?

Happy birthday, darling
Did you think we'd forgotten?

Well, I, I don't know

These people are from the best men's shop in town
I had them close it down for the day

Norma, now listen!

I'll leave you boys to it

Happy birthday, welcome to your shopathon!

What's going on?

Help yourself, it's all been taken care of
Anyone who's anyone is dressed by me

Well, golly gee

Pick out anything you'd like a pair of
You just point, I'll do the rest
I've brought nothing but the best
You're a very lucky writer
Come along now, get undressed
Unless I'm much mistaken
That's a 42-inch chest

I don't understand a word you're saying

Well, all you need to know's the lady's paying
It's nice to get your just reward this time of year

Get outta here!

And all my merchandise is strictly kosher
When you've thrown away all your old worn-out stuff

Hey, that's enough

Perhaps you'd like to model for my brochure
I have just the thing for you
Chalk-stripe suits

In black

Or blue

Glen plaid trousers

Cashmere sweaters

Bathing shorts for Malibu

Here's a patent leather lace-up

It's a virtuoso shoe

And a simply marvelous coat made of vicuna

You know what you can do with your vicuna

Come on Joe, you haven't even started yet

You wanna bet?

I thought by now he'd look the height of fashion
He always takes forever making up his mind
Don't be unkind
I thought you writers knew about compassion

I love flannel on a man

This will complement his tan

We'll take two of these and four of those

I'm still your greatest fan!
Very soon now we'll have stopped him
Looking like an also-ran

You're going to make me sorry that I'm staying

Well, all right, I'll choose, after all, I'm paying!

Evening clothes?

I want to see your most deluxe

Won't wear a tux

Of course not, dear, tuxedos are for waiters

What we need are tails, a white tie and top hat

I can't wear that

Joe, second-rate clothes are for second-raters

Norma, please

Shut up, I'm rich
Now some platinum blonde bitch
I own so many apartments
I've forgotten which is which

I don't have to go to premieres
I'm never on display
You seem to forget that I'm a writer
Who cares what you wear when you're a writer?

I care, Joe, and please don't be so mean to me

Okay, all right

You can't come to my New Year's Eve party in that filling-station shirt

I've been invited somewhere else on New Year's Eve

Where?

Artie Green
He's an old friend of mine

I can't do without you, Joe, I need you
I've sent out every single invitation

All right, Norma, I give in

Of course you do
And when they've dressed you
You'll cause a sensation

We equip the chosen few of Movieland

The latest cut

We dress every movie star and crooner
From their shiny toecaps to their hatband

Conceal your gut
You won't regret selecting the vicuna

If you need a hand to shake
If there's a girl you want to make
If there's a soul you're out to capture
Or a heart you want to break
If you want the world to love you

You'll have to learn to take

And gracefully accept the role you're playing

You will earn every cent the lady's paying

So why not have it all?

Now that didn't hurt, did it?

The lady's paying!