And if it doesn't bore you, I'll sing you just a verse,
You'll say it might be better; but I think it might be worse.
"O lady who was singing
With happy semi-grand,
A troubadour is waiting,
He's asking for your hand,
Carrissima! Mia! Agrah!
From other lands I roam,
Be ready with the trousseau,
I'll come, and take you home!