They/We like to chat about the dresses they[we] will wear tonight, 
they[we] chew the fat about their[our] tresses and the neighbor's fight;
inconsequential things that men don't really care to know
become essential things that women find so "ap-ro-pos."
But that's a dame, they're[we're] all the same;  it's just a game.
They[We] call it Girl         Talk,           Girl            Talk. 

They[We] all meow about the ups and downs of all their friends,
the "who," the "how," the "why,"  they[we] dish the dirt, it never ends.
The weaker sex, the speaker sex we[you] mortal males behold,
but tho' we joke we wouldn't trade  you  for a ton   of     gold. 
So    baby      stay        and    gag  away,    but     hear me say     that  after
(It's all been planned,  so take my hand,   please understand the sweetest
Girl               Talk,           talk           to              me. 
Girl               Talk,           talks         of              you. )
 

Circa 1965
Words by Bobby Troup and Music by Neal Hefti
Copyright © Famous Music Corporation