On the Badminton Court

In bygone days gentlemen all kept their blade and their gun by their hand.
They draw their weapons at their first dirty word, but I traded in my pistol for two rackets and a bird.
You've done me wrong, mm that's a fact, you called me yellow behind my back.
You spoke vulgar language, here's my retort, gonna smack your shallow popgun around that badminton court.
Well I don't go for bullets, don't go for boats, don't go for brawling and getting blood on my clothes.
Don't go for cussing when I'm settling my score, so I'll offer declaration on the badminton court.
You've done me wrong, mm that's a fact, you called me yellow behind my back.
You spoke vulgar language, here's my retort, gonna smack your shallow popgun around that badminton court.
Say friends, what do you do on the badminton court? (smack the bird) Oh, what do you do on the badminton court? (smack the bird) Let's smack it!
So grab your racket, grab your shorts, take the field for some manly sport.
When the sun is high and the breeze is cool.
I challenge every scoundrel to a badminton duel.
You've done me wrong, mm that's a fact, you called me yellow behind my back.
You spoke vulgar language, here's my retort, gonna smack your shallow popgun around that badminton court.