Put on Your Sunday Clothes

Out there, there's a world outside of Yonkers

Way out there beyond this hick town, Barnaby

There's a slick town, Barnaby

Out there, full of sunshine and full of sparkle

Close your eyes and see it glisten, Barnaby

Listen, Barnaby

Put on your Sunday clothes, there's lots of world out there

Get out the brilliantine and dime cigars

We're gonna find adventure in the evening air

Girls in white, in a perfumed night

Where the lights are bright as the stars

Put on your Sunday clothes, we're gonna ride through town

In one of those new horse drawn open cars

We'll see the shows at Delmonico's

And we'll close the town in a whirl

But we won't come home until we've kissed a girl

Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out

Strut down the street and have your picture took

Dressed like a dream, your spirits seem to turn about

That Sunday shine is a certain sign that you feel as fine as you look

Beneath your parasol, the world is all the smile

That makes you feel brand new down to your toes

Get out your feathers, your patent leathers

Your beads, and buckles, and bows

For there's no blue Monday in your Sunday clothes

Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out

Strut down the street and have your picture took

Dressed like a dream, your spirits seem to turn about

That Sunday shine is a certain sign that you feel as fine as you look

Beneath your parasol, the world is all the smile

That makes you feel brand new down to your toes

Get out your feathers, your patent leathers

Your beads, and buckles, and bows

For there's no blue Monday in your Sunday clothes

Herman, God, stop sniveling, don't try on the polices

Ambrose, let me hear that tiny chord (Aah)

Lovely, you're improving, now get all eleven pieces

We're seven minutes late

All aboard

(All aboard, all aboard) All aboard

All aboard

Put on your Sunday clothes, there's lots of world out there

Put on your silk cravat and patent shoes

Oh, we're gonna find adventure in the evening air

To town we'll trot, to a smokey spot

Where the girls are hot as a fuse

Put on your high silk hat and at the turned-up cuff

We'll wear a handmade gray suede buttoned glove

We'll join the Astors at Tony Pastor's

And this I'm positive of

That we won't come home

No, we won't come home

No, we won't come home until we fall in love