| We’re a couple of swells
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| We stop at the best hotels
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| But we prefer the country
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| Far away from the city smells
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| We’re a couple of sports
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| The pride of the tennis courts
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| In June, July and August
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| We look cute when we’re dressed in shorts
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| The Vanderbilts have asked us up for tea
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| We don’t know how to get there, no siree
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| No siree
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| We would drive up the avenue
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| But we haven’t got the price
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| We could skate up the avenue
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| But there isn’t any ice
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| We would ride on a bicycle
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| But we haven’t got a bike
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| So we’ll walk up the avenue
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| Yes we’ll walk up the avenue
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| And to walk up the avenue’s what we like
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| Wall Street bankers are we
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| With plenty of currency
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| We’d open up the safe
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| But we forgot where we put the key
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| We’re the favorite lads
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| Of girls in the picture ads
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| We’d like to tell you who we kissed last night
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| But we can’t be cads
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| The Vanderbilts are waiting at the club
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| But how are we to get there? |
| That’s the rub
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| That’s the rub
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| We could sail up the avenue
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| But we haven’t got a yacht
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| We could drive up the avenue
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| But the horse we had was shot
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| We could ride on a trolley car
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| But we haven’t got the fare
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| So we’ll walk up the avenue
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| Yes we’ll walk up the avenue
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| Yes we’ll walk up the avenue 'til we’re there
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| We would swim up the avenue
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| But we haven’t got a lake
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| So we’ll walk up the avenue
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| Yes we’ll walk up the avenue
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| Yes a walk up the avenue’s what we’ll take |