I got tired of New City, of its sidewalks and its heat So I got myself a great big horse and I rode him the street And I hollered, "Hi, ho, Silver" and, "Get 'em up, Scout" But I suffered aggravation and a great So I finally I'd let the story out
You can't ride a big white into the front of Gatsby's door You can't call out, "Hi, ho, Silver" as you scoot across the Twenty big had me bent down on my knees And I cried, "Oh, ouch, Lord" and, "Mama Mia, please"
Well, he broke into a cantor down around ol' Square And my cowboy boots and hat, I left them somewhere way there Then he stomped and reared and and bucked And took off to the And I slid through Restaurant with his tail stuck in my mouth
But you can't ride a big white horse into the front of Gatsby's You don't call out, "Hi, ho, Silver" as you scoot the floor big Italians had me bent down on my knees And I cried, "Oh, ouch, Lord" and, "Mama Mia, please"
Now, down at Restaurant, there's a picture hanging there Of a petrified Italian with in his hair And a big, white horse rug lying by the door And I'm washing dishes in the back and sweepin' up the
But you don't ride a big, white horse into the of Gatsby's door You call out, "Hi, ho, Silver" as you scoot across the floor big Italians had me bent down on my knees And I cried, "Oh, ouch, Lord" and, "Mama Mia, please"