I got tired of New York City, of its and its heat So I got myself a great big and I rode him down the street And I hollered, "Hi, ho, Silver" and, "Get 'em up, Scout" But I suffered aggravation and a humiliation So I finally said I'd let the out
You can't ride a big white horse the front of Gatsby's door You can't call out, "Hi, ho, Silver" as you scoot the floor Twenty big Italians had me bent down on my 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 back Then he and reared and turned and bucked And took off to the And I slid through Gatsby's Restaurant with his tail stuck in my
But you can't ride a big white horse into the front of door You call out, "Hi, ho, Silver" as you scoot across the floor Twenty big Italians had me bent down on my And I cried, "Oh, ouch, Lord" and, "Mama Mia, please"
Now, down at Gatsby's Restaurant, a picture hanging there Of a petrified with escargot in his hair And there's a big, 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 the front of Gatsby's door You don't 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"