A popular song from 1912
Words and music by Irving Berlin
The sheet music:
Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:
Lyrics
- I can’t explain-a how I feel, my heart no let me speak
Antonio, he run away and leave me last-a week
He take ’em all the money what I hide under the floor
He also take the Irish gal that live-a next a-door
He thinks that I’m an easy mark, like what you call the “Jay”
I write-a him-a letter and-a this is what I say
Chorus:
Antonio, don’t you think that you can treat me so
Because I sharp-a da stiletto till she look-a much-a new
And pretty soon the people walk-a slow behind-a you
Antonio, don’t you think that you can treat me so
I’m gonna give-a you a close-a shave
So close-a that you shake-a hand-a with the grave
Antonio, better come back home
- The minute that he sees-a me, he’s gonna know I sore
And then he’s gonna run-a like he never run before
I wrote-a him-a dozen letters in the past-a week
For every letter what I write, I’m gonna throw a brick
I lose ’em all the pity, and my heart she turn to stone
And here’s the last-a letter that I write-a to Antone
Chorus:
Antonio, don’t you think that you can treat me so
Because I go and see the tailor, and the tailor he’s-a guess
Why I go there and order up the nice-a black-a dress
Antonio, don’t you think that you can treat me so
I’m gonna cook for you some macaroni
You eat “Bus. of Kiss,” goodbye, Antonio
Antonio, better come back home