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, won't 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 do?
I'm feeling kind of Limehouse Chinese Laundry Blues

Now, Mr. Wu
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