Poor old Johnny Ray
Sounded sad upon the radio
Moved a million hearts in mono
Our mothers cried
Sang along, who'd blame them
You're grown, so grown
Now I must say more than ever, come on Eileen
Toora loora toora loo rye ay
And we can sing just like our fathers
Come on Eileen, oh I swear what he means
At this moment, you mean everything
With you in that dress my thoughts I confess
Verge on dirty, ah come on Eileen