Utt Da Zay

My mother used to sing to me A haunting little melody. Nobody knows where it came from or where it Was composed. Are you dig, dig, dig, dig, dig? Do you shop, shop, shop, shop? Are you half the width, that mile into you? "Ah-da-zoy," sings the tailor as he fashions pretty Clothes. "Ah-da-zoy," sings the tailor and he Sews, sews, sews. He's busy as a bee making lovely Finery. Sings, "My baby loves to wear when I take Her to the fair." "Ah-da-zoy," sings the tailor. All it means is, "That's the way," When I buy the things he made her sings The tailor, "Ah-da-zay."