Each night at eight under her window he′d wait
He would look up and shout
Ain't you comin′ out, my pretty, pretty mama
Ain't you comin' out tonight?
He′d never play music for his serenade
He′d just look up and shout
Ain't you comin′ out, my pretty, pretty, pretty mama
Ain't you comin′ out tonight?
He couldn't strum a guitar, a banjo or mandolin
He couldn′t sing tra-la-la
He couldn't whistle or hum
He'd just come there and shout
Ain′t you comin′ out?
Ain't you comin′ out?
Ain't you comin′ out?
Ain't you comin′ out?
Writer(s): Bert Kalmar, Harry Ruby Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
