East is east and west is west and the wrong one I have chose.
Let’s go where you’ll keep on wearin’
Those frills and flowers and buttons and bows,
Rings and things and buttons and bows.
Don’t bury me in this prairie;
Take me where the cement grows.
Let’s move down to some big town
Where they love a gal by the cut o’ her clothes
And you’ll stand out in buttons and bows.

I’ll love you in buckskin or skirts that you’ve homespun.
But I’ll love ya’ longer
Stronger where yer friends don’t tote a gun.
My bones denounce the buckboard bounce
And the cactus hurts my toes.
Let’s vamoose where gals keep usin’
Those silks and satins and linen that shows.
And you’re all mine in buttons and bows.

Coda in one breath: Gimme Eastern trimmin’ where women are women in high silk hose and peek–a–boo clothes and French perfume that rocks the room and you’re all mine
[Breathe]
In buttons and bows.