The West, so they say Is home of the jay And Missouri's the state That can grind them This may all be But just take it from me You don't have to go Out West to find them If you want to see The real jay delegation The place where the Real rubens dwell Just hop on a train At the Grand Central Station Get off when they shout "New Rochelle." Only forty-five minutes from Broadway Think of the changes it brings; For the short time it takes What a diff'rence it makes In the ways of the people and things Oh! What a fine bunch of rubens Oh! what a jay atmosphere; They have whiskers like hay And imagine Broadway Only forty-five minutes from here
When the bunco men hear that their game is so near They'll be swarming here thicker than bees are In Barnum's best days, why he never saw jays That were easier to get to than these are You tell them old jokes and they laugh till they sicken There's giggles and grins here to let I told them that one about "Why does a chicken The rubens are all laughing yet Only forty-five minutes from Broadway Not a cafe in the town; Oh! The place is a bird No one here ever heard Of Delmonico, Rector or Browne With a ten-dollar bill you're a spendthrift; If you open a bottle of beer You're a sport, so they say And imagine Broadway Only forty-five minutes from here