You made the coat and vest
Should fit me the best.
You sewed the
buttons strong.
But Sam, you made the pants too long.
Far from the Bronx I flew,
Around the world to you,
'Cause they said
you're the best custom tailor in Hong Kong.
Sam, you made the pants 'bout a
foot and a half too long.
First I took a jet,
Then I took a clipper,
Then I took a ricksha to
your door.
And now Sam, I regret,
My chin's caught in my zipper,
And my
cuffs are down there polishing the floor.
Oh, what a thrill divine,
When I first saw your sign.
It said, "For
service, kindly bong the gong."
I bonged, and then mine pants went wrong.
I don't like to complain,
Or cause a demonstration,
But the belt is in
my armpits, if you please.
I'm trying to explain,
My pants need
alteration.
How do you say "oy vay" in Chinese?
I've been here six long weeks.
My pagoda leaks.
I thought your name was
Feldman, but it's Fong!
Sam Fong, you made the pants too long!
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