By the old and gilded ball room, lookin' only at Back Bay,
There's a hostess line a-waitin' and a-try-in' to look gay;
For the wind is in the trombones and the saxophones they say,
"Come you back, you Harvard stage line, come you back to old Back Bay!"
Come you back to old Back Bay,
Where they turn night into day;
Can't you hear the bass drum boomin' in the ball rooms of Back Bay?
On the road to old Back Bay
Where the bean and codfish play,
And the dawn comes up to wonder at the dancing in Back Bay!
'Er evening dress was velvet, and 'er firzzy 'air was gold,
And 'er pink brassiere was missing, 'er decolletage was bold,
And I seed 'er first a-smokin', and a-lougin' languidly,
And a-wastin' high power sex appeal on a Freshman coterie.
Bloomin' Freshmen,--little kids--
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