East is east and west is west,
And the wrong one I have chose.
Let's go where I'll keep on wearin',
Those frills and flowers, and buttons and bows.

Rings and things, and buttons and bows.
Don't bury me in this prairie,
Take me where the cement grows,
Let's move down to some big town,
Where they love a gal by the cut o' her clothes,
And I'll stand out,
In buttons and bows.

I'll love you in buckskin,
Or skirts that I've homespun,
But I'll love ya' longer, stronger where
Yer friends don't tote a gun.

My bones denounce the buckboard bounce,
And the cactus hurts my toes,
Let's vamoose where gals keep usin'
Those silks and satins and linen that shows,
And I'm all yours in buttons and bows.

Gimme eastern trimmin' where women are women,
In high silk hose and peek-a-boo clothes,
And French perfume that rocks the room,
And I'm all yours in buttons and bows.