The West, so they say,
Is home of the jay,
And Missouri's the state
That can grind them.
This may all be,
But just take it from me,
You don't have to go
Out West to find them.
If you want to see
The real jay delegation,
The place where the
Real rubens dwell.
Just hop on a train
At the Grand Central Station.
Get off when they shout
"New Rochelle."

Only forty-five minutes from Broadway,
Think of the changes it brings;
For the short time it takes,
What a diff'rence it makes
In the ways of the people and things.
Oh! What a fine bunch of rubens,
Oh! what a jay atmosphere;
They have whiskers like hay,
And imagine Broadway
Only forty-five minutes from here.

When the bunco men hear that their game is so near,
They'll be swarming here thicker than bees are.
In Barnum's best days, why he never saw jays
That were easier to get to than these are.
You tell them old jokes and they laugh till they sicken,
There's giggles and grins here to let.
I told them that one about "Why does a chicken,
The rubens are all laughing yet.

Only forty-five minutes from Broadway,
Not a cafe in the town;
Oh! The place is a bird,
No one here ever heard
Of Delmonico, Rector or Browne.
With a ten-dollar bill you're a spendthrift;
If you open a bottle of beer
You're a sport, so they say,
And imagine Broadway
Only forty-five minutes from here.