In your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it,
You'll be the grandest lady in the Easter parade.
Ill be all in clover and when they look you over,
Ill be the proudest fellow in the Easter parade.
On the avenue, fifth avenue, the photographers will snap us,
And you ll find that you re in the rotogravure.
Oh, I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet,
And of the girl I'm taking to the Easter parade.
"Ma, can I take these off now?"