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