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  • 作曲 : Friedberger
    Now, as for my aunt
    Who told on me
    She was always wearing her turbans
    Sailing back to Greece on the Normandy
    Having dinner at the captain's table
    Sitting on the deck with 5 men surrounding her
    With uncle Sam in the back row
    Back at home, riding up the Taygetus on a donkey named David
    With her soft leather boots dangling off to the side
    So full of pride
    So full of pride.
    Profitis Elias, so high you can see us
    4823 22nd St., standing there with cashmere overcoats
    And those turbans with their Arabian silver
    And ostrich and papagou feather hats
    And not far down from our koumbaros Betinis
    We've got a secret between us Betinis
    In the back of the Hawthorne smoke shop
    In the basement of the hat factory
    The fedoras got glued together
    But in that back basement...
    In that back basement, a lot of things got sewn up!
    A full compliment of grinchy Italians
    Counting up on their stubby fingers, and smoking, I'm told
    The least sophisticated cigars
    The local lottery and so forth
    Like anybody was going to get a nit out of that nut
    Though what a lucky loser is our five thousand dollars a day friend and koumbaros Betinis
    We've got a secret between us, Betinis
    In the back of the Hawthorne smoke shop,
    Haberdashery was the least of it
    In the basement of the hat factory
    The fedoras got glued together
    But in that back basement...
    In that back basement, a lot of things got sewn up
    We've got a secret between us, Betinis.
    Five thousand dollars a day
    Five thousand dollars a day
    Five thousand dollars a day
    Five thousand dollars a day
    In the basement of the hat factory
    The fedoras got glued together
    But in that back basement
    In that back basement, a lot of things got sewn up!
    We've got a secret between us, Betinis
    Not that nobody knows, like nobody knows about the white doves that flew out the cake at the brother's wedding
    In your hat factory, Betinis, they count up all the buffalo nickels
    And silver certificates wrung from Lake Superior spirits
    And prize fight foolery, and sluts speaking easy in the closets on 12th St.
    And in exchange you put in your pants $5,000 a day to stick under your bed for starters
    But later in the laundry, so you can feel free to chase your wife around the table
    When you feel she looked at the apricot and boysenberry boy twice
  • 作曲 : Friedberger
    Now, as for my aunt
    Who told on me
    She was always wearing her turbans
    Sailing back to Greece on the Normandy
    Having dinner at the captain's table
    Sitting on the deck with 5 men surrounding her
    With uncle Sam in the back row
    Back at home, riding up the Taygetus on a donkey named David
    With her soft leather boots dangling off to the side
    So full of pride
    So full of pride.
    Profitis Elias, so high you can see us
    4823 22nd St., standing there with cashmere overcoats
    And those turbans with their Arabian silver
    And ostrich and papagou feather hats
    And not far down from our koumbaros Betinis
    We've got a secret between us Betinis
    In the back of the Hawthorne smoke shop
    In the basement of the hat factory
    The fedoras got glued together
    But in that back basement...
    In that back basement, a lot of things got sewn up!
    A full compliment of grinchy Italians
    Counting up on their stubby fingers, and smoking, I'm told
    The least sophisticated cigars
    The local lottery and so forth
    Like anybody was going to get a nit out of that nut
    Though what a lucky loser is our five thousand dollars a day friend and koumbaros Betinis
    We've got a secret between us, Betinis
    In the back of the Hawthorne smoke shop,
    Haberdashery was the least of it
    In the basement of the hat factory
    The fedoras got glued together
    But in that back basement...
    In that back basement, a lot of things got sewn up
    We've got a secret between us, Betinis.
    Five thousand dollars a day
    Five thousand dollars a day
    Five thousand dollars a day
    Five thousand dollars a day
    In the basement of the hat factory
    The fedoras got glued together
    But in that back basement
    In that back basement, a lot of things got sewn up!
    We've got a secret between us, Betinis
    Not that nobody knows, like nobody knows about the white doves that flew out the cake at the brother's wedding
    In your hat factory, Betinis, they count up all the buffalo nickels
    And silver certificates wrung from Lake Superior spirits
    And prize fight foolery, and sluts speaking easy in the closets on 12th St.
    And in exchange you put in your pants $5,000 a day to stick under your bed for starters
    But later in the laundry, so you can feel free to chase your wife around the table
    When you feel she looked at the apricot and boysenberry boy twice