| When at first aware of masculinity | 
| I began to finger feminine curls | 
| I became the toast of my vicinity | 
| For I always had a multitude of girls | 
| But now that a married man at last am I | 
| How aware of my dear departed past am I | 
| Where is the life that late I led? | 
| Where is it now? | 
| Totally dead! | 
| Where is the fun I used to find? | 
| Where has it gone? | 
| Gone with the wind! | 
| A married life may all be well | 
| But raising an heir | 
| Could never compare | 
| With raising a bit of hell | 
| So I repeat what first I said | 
| Where is the life that late I… | 
| (Bridge 1) | 
| In dear Milano, where are you Momo? | 
| Still selling those pictures | 
| Of the Scriptures | 
| In the Duomo? | 
| And Carolina, where are you, 'lina? | 
| Still peddling your pizza | 
| In the streets-a | 
| Taormina? | 
| And in Firenze, where are you Alice? | 
| Still there in your pretty | 
| Itty-bitty pity | 
| Palace? | 
| And sweet Lucretia, so young and gay | 
| What scandalous doings | 
| In the ruins | 
| Of Pompeii | 
| Where is the life that late I led? | 
| Where is it now? | 
| Totally dead! | 
| Where is the fun I used to find? | 
| Where has it gone? | 
| Gone with the wind! | 
| The marriage game is quite all right | 
| Yes during the day | 
| It’s easy to play | 
| But oh what a bore at night | 
| So I repeat what first I said | 
| Where is the life that late I… | 
| (Bridge 2) | 
| Where is Rebecca? | 
| My Becky-wecky-oh | 
| Could still she be cruising | 
| That amusing | 
| Ponte Vecchio? | 
| Where is Fedora, the wild virago? | 
| It’s lucky I missed her | 
| Gangster sister | 
| From Chicago | 
| Where is Venetia, who loved to chat so? | 
| Could still she be drinking | 
| In her stinking | 
| Pink palazzo? | 
| And lovely Lisa, where are you Lisa? | 
| You gave a new meaning | 
| To the Leaning | 
| Tower of Pisa | 
| Where is the life that late I led? | 
| Where is it now? | 
| Totally dead! | 
| Where is the fun I used to find? | 
| Where has it gone? | 
| Gone with the wind! | 
| I’ve oft been told of nuptial bliss | 
| But what do you do | 
| At quarter to two | 
| With only a shrew to kiss? | 
| So I repeat what first I said | 
| Where is the life that late I led |