It All Belongs to Me - Ruth Etting, Ирвинг Берлин

Take a look at the flower in my buttonhole

Take a look say and ask me why it’s there

Can’t you see that I’m all dressed up to take a stroll?

Can’t you tell that there’s something in the air?

I’ve got a date, can hardly wait

I’d like to bet she won’t be late

Here she comes, come on and meet

A hundred pounds of what is mighty sweet

And it all belongs to me Flashing eyes and how they roll

A disposition like a sugar bowl

And it all belongs to me That pretty baby face, that bunch of style and grace

Should be in Tiff’ny’s window in a platinum jewel case

Hey there, you, you’ll get in dutch

I’ll let you look but then you mustn’t touch

For it all belongs to me Here she comes, come on and meet

A hundred pounds of what is mighty sweet

And it all belongs to me Rosy cheeks, red hot lips

And polished nails upon her fingertips

And it all belongs to me Those lips that I desire are like electric wire

She kissed a tree last summer and she started a forest fire

I’m in love with what she’s got

And what she’s got, she’s got an awful lot

And it all belongs to me

A million dollars worth of flying hips