Poets love to sing of Paris in the Spring

They say it's something that you can't conceive

I don't know a thing of Paris in the Spring

I've never been abroad but I believe



A beautiful day in Brooklyn is more beautiful

Than a beautiful day in any other place



When the sun comes shining through

Over Flatbush Avenue

You wake with a smile on your face



The weather man doesn't have to say it's beautiful

When you open your window ev'rything's okay



If a tree that grows in Brooklyn could speak, it would say

"A beautiful day in Brooklyn is a most beautiful day"