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many times have you heard some performer say,
"Gee, but it's great to be back here on old Broadway?"
That's such a worn and a boring cliche --
Well, steel yourself, you're just about to hear it
again.
How many times has the orchestra struck the chords,
Marking the entrance of one of those tired broads
Saying she's thrilled to be back on the boards?
Well, settle back and sweat it out,
The lyrics say beyond a doubt
That you poor folks are just about
To hear it again.
Broadway, my street,
That touch-on-wood or good-to-die street,
Broadway, I know your charms,
So naturally, your baby girl came back to your arms.
Though it's cold out,
Show me a sign that says we're sold out,
And see me clicking my heels
To show the gang how warming it feels
Back here on my beat,
Broadway, my street.
Broadway, my street,
That suicide or riding high street,
Broadway, I'm in a daze,
That's every day at seven plus the two matinees.
My-oh me-oh,
Tell me we're socko at the B.O.,
And see me mopping my eyes
Like I had won one wonderful prize
Back here on my beat,
Broadway, my street.
I telephone my cronies
In the lobby of the Lambs
That I'll be back on Broadway.
Go polish off the Tonies
And compose the telegrams,
Because I'm back on Broadway.
So let me hear the cymbals crash
And let me hear the trumpets play,
And let me hear that I'm a smash,
'Cause Sardi's seats me right away.
And let me hear my agent brag
There's not a ticket in the rack,
And beat the drum and wave the flag
'Cause hallelu, I'm back
Again
On
Broadway, my street,
That touch-on-wood or good-to-die street,
See me clicking my heels
To show the gang how warming it feels
Back here on my beat,
Broadway, my street.
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