Poor old Johnny Ray
Sounded sad upon the radio
He moved a million hearts in mono
Our mothers cried and sang along
and who'd blame them
Now you're grown, so grown that I must say now,
more than ever
Go toora, loora, toora loo rye aye
And we can sing just like our fathers
Come on Eileen
Well I swear (What he means)
At this moment, you mean everything
With you in that dress
my thoughts, I must confess
Verge on dirty
Well c'mon Eileen