Ciccone Follow

Though it happens in every nation they greet it differently
Every mademoiselle with pasoolala, every Englishman talks to his pater
Every spittin' Venetian goes tra la la and the Irish say, ‽Mother McCree”
But when I look at you and I thrill like I do there is only one thing I can say

Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!
(Oh boy! Oh boy!)
Oh boy what a joy, a joy, a joy, a joy, a joy
(A joy, a joy)
To know that you love me by heaven above me
I never expected to pick you off the vine

The others will try and try and try and try and try
To give you the eye, the eye, the eye, the eye, the eye
But when they approach you I'll keep them in line
(In line, in line)
By telling them oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! You're mine

Certain characters hi-diddle-diddle when cupid comes along
Some mechanics shift gears in the middle and drummers kick the gong
Every cowboy I know hollers yipee-a-ay, every clown in the circus
Goes oopla, every sailor in port hollers anchors aweigh
And an Indian gives you a uhh but when you hold me tight
Like you're doing tonight there is only one thing I can say

Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!
(Oh boy! Oh boy!)
Oh boy what a joy, a joy, a joy, a joy, a joy
(A joy, a joy)
To know that you love me by heaven above me
I never expected to pick you off the vine

The others will try and try and try and try and try
To give you the eye, the eye, the eye, the eye, the eye
But when they approach you I'll keep them in line
(In line, in line)
By telling them oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!
(Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!)
Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy! You're mine

Though it happens in every nation they greet it differently
Every mademoiselle with pasoolala, every Englishman talks to his pater