We sing of a time when rhythm and rhyme
coupled up so gaily.
We sing and dance on the green, green grass
and the birds do warble daily.
We play our flutes and we tune our harps;
it's merry mirth we're making,
but the falalas have become quite blah,
so here's a risk we're taking,
a fine tradition breaking,
for sure there's no mistaking
this mad, mad, mad, mad madrigal
Fa la la oo la la doo doo wah doo doo wah dah doo.
Shoop, shoobee doobee doop, shoobee doo wah, bah dah bah loo bop,
how 'bout you?
Dip dah dip, fa lama lama ding dong.
Yip yipee ti yi yo!
Bah bah bah, sham bam bala,
till the morning roster crows.
It‘s a mad, mad, mad, mad, madrigal,
mad, mad, madrigal,