When sha-waddy-waddy sun
yields to de-bebop moon
Billy Blue Jeans feels like dancin
as on the hushabye swing
he and Molly sit and sing
and feel like a game of chancin.

So they cruise down the Boul-e
in his shiny Bluebird sports;
he combs back his Brylcreem slicks
as she hitches up her shorts.

Then later on some jivin
with cool Reuben And The Jets;
she’ll twirl her netted petticoats,
he’ll lay some sly-dog bets.

And they’ll finish off the evenin
at the drive-in, down the Lot
where, ‘neath hood and fogged-up windshield,
things are getting steamy hot.

So when Pop-n-Ma’s hall light goes off
and cat’s put out the back,
they’ll leave the car and, dressed in shadows,
tiptoe down the track

to find the window open
they wedged earlier with a knife
then sneak inside (if Pa finds out
he’ll bang-bang poor Billy’s life!)

But after all, it’s worth the risk
to gain sweet Molly’s room
that’s all cushions, toys (for girls and boys!)
and with bras and stockings strewn.

There unafraid and come what may
they oompah ‘til light in the head
as Doris Day winks and the mattress sinks
in their move-over-darling bed.