George M. Cohan - Forty-Five Minutes From Broadway

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