Now Mr. Wu was a laundry man in a shop with an old green door
He'll iron all day your linen away, he really makes me sore
He's lost his heart to a Chinese girl and his laundry's all gone wrong
All day he'll flirt and scorch your shirt, that's why I'm singing this song
Oh Mr. Wu, what shall I do, I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues
This funny feeling keeps round me stealing
Oh wont you throw your sweetheart over do
My vest's so short that it won't fit my little brother
And my new Sunday shirt has got a perforated rudder
Mr. Wu, what shall I
I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues
Now Mr. Nu, he's got a naughty eye that flickers
You ought to see it wobble when he's ironing ladies blouses
Mr. Wu, what shall I do, I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues
Now Mr. Wu, he's got a laundry kind of tricky
He'll starch my shirts and collars but he'll never touch my waistcoat..
Mr. Wu, what shall I do, I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues