Now the troubadours are outside the court   With their gramophones and rifles   And an awful cloud is daring to pour   Such a wild scene a 3-D picture Bible story      And the floats of tinsel garland are downed   Stalled for blocks on the parade route   But the Majorette still twirls in the rain   And the marching band goes soaking wet and that's a fine how      Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how   Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how      Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how      See the ladies in their Queen Union suits   Shuffling gaily for the camera   Doing high kicks in their felt button boots   While the men puff on their cigarettes from Panama      Like the baby dolls of Bisque on display   In the shops of Barcelona   There's a blankness that falls over his face   As the speaker makes his way up to the podium      Could he be so blind to sip lemonade   In such a dire time, well, that's a fine   That's a fine how      Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how   Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how      Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how   Do ya do, do ya do      Holding hostage in the opium dens   That are tucked behind the alleyway   Where the corridors of Amsterdam bend   'Neath the windows where the harlots pose like mannequins      No one thinks of them on Valentines   There's no chocolate box or cards to read   And that's a fine how      Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how   Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how      Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how   Do ya do, do ya do   And that's a fine how