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"