Out there
There's a world outside of Yonkers
Way out there beyond this town, Barnaby
There's a slick town, Barnaby
Out there
Full of shine & full of sparkle
Close your eyes and see it glisten, Barnaby

Put on your Sunday clothes
Lots of world outthere
Get out the brilliantine & dime cigars
We're gonna find adventure in the evening air
Girls in white in a perfumed night
Where the lights are bright as the stars

Put On Your Sunday Clothes
We're gonna ride through town
In one of those new horse-draw open cars
We'll see the shows of Dalmanico's
And we'll close the town in a whirl
And we [bad word] home until we've kissed a girl!

Put On Your Sunday Clothes
When you fell down & out
 [bad word] down the street & have your picture took
Dressed like a dream your spirit seem to turn about
That Sunday shine is a certain sigh
That you feel as fine as you look
Beneath your parasol the world is all a smile
That makes you feel brand-new down your toes
Get out your feathers, your parent leathers
Your beards & buckles & bows
There's no blue Monday in your Sanday clothes

Beneath your bowler brim 
The world's a simple song
lovely lilt that makes u lift your nose
Get out your slippers your flannel knickers
Your red suspenders & hose
For there's no Monday in your Sanday close!

Ermingade, keep smiling, no man wants a little ninny. Ambrose, do a turn, let me see