There’s a sweet young Miss, I love to kiss, but listen close and hear me.
She’s not my only love, I have another love,
and she’ll just have to share me.
But she’s five foot tall, high heel and all, she already knows.

She had some competition, in a composition, known as polka on an old banjo.

Polka on a banjo, make that five string hot.
Polka on a banjo, give it all you’ve got.
Polka on a banjo, watch them fingers go.

Of all the songs I guess, the one that I love best,
Is the polka on an old banjo.

And when they start the band,
she takes me by the hand, and I begin to swing her.

She knows I never miss, a chance to steal a kiss,
or dance the polka with her.
I don’t speak a word ,once I have heard, the one thing I love so.

She’s caught in the middle,
she played the second fiddle, to a polka on an old banjo.