Gatsby's Restaurant

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