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Outside the door the two despair, But inside, the chief is being prepared, And thanks to the faithful gimpy friend The bridal pair are near their goal. |
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The bridegroom, meanwhile, all alone, Before these mighty men feels small, And they all tell him, “This looks bad, The procureur is clearly right! What good's this scrap of paper here? We'll have to send a telegram!” |
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“He was reluctant”, says he, But tomorrow we're going ahead!”
The bride and witnesses are ready. But now he says, “Lord, we’re not there yet! The chief slept poorly last night And came up with something new. “Go and obtain - it’s worth the effort - A document from the military command Instead of from the ministry, And then come back once more.”
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It’s all over! you think. No, it goes on, but how?
The commandant wishes he'd go to hell, But the bridegroom stands his ground, “If I don't get the paper soon Your beefsteak will get cold.” So the man thinks of his déjeuner And thus agrees to bend the rules. And bride and witness scream: “Hooray! The bridegroom finally is here!” |
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It’s all over! you think. No, it goes on, but how?
The lilacs wilt, a witness flees, The bride starts looking for a cab.
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Then everything proceeds apace, Sermon and wedding, quick as the wind, They sign their names on the dotted line, And thereby man and wife become!
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