Song parody of

Forty-Eight Twenty-Three Twenty-Second Street

by The Fiery Furnaces

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  • English (English)
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  • Español (Spanish)

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 five 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 forty eight, twenty three, twenty second street 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 night 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 dollars a day Five thousand dollars dollars a day Five thousand dollars dollars a day Five thousand dollars 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 street And in exchange you put in your pants five thousand dollars 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

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Forty-Eight Twenty-Three Twenty-Second Street

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