Lyrics

Now they’re makin’ movies in old black and white
With happy endings where nobody fights
So if you find yourself in that nostalgic rage
Honey, jump right up and show your age

I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
The “Boston Blackie” kind
A two-toned Ricky Ricardo jacket
And an autographed picture of Andy Divine
I remember bein’ buck toothed and skinny
Writin’ fan letters to Sky’s niece Penny
Oh, I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
Then I could solve some mysteries too

Oh it’s Bandstand, Disneyland, growin’ up fast
Drinkin’ on a fake I.D.
And Rama of the jungle was everyone’s Bawana
But only jazz musicians were smokin’ marijuana
Yeah, I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
Then I could solve some mysteries too

But then it’s flat-top, dirty bop, coppin’ a feel’
Grubbin on the living room floor
They send you off to college
To try to gain a little knowledge
But all you want to do is learn how to score

Yeah, but now I’m gettin’ old, don’t wear underwear
I don’t go to church, and I don’t cut my hair
But I can go to movies and see it all there
Just the way that it use to be

That’s why I wish I had a pencil thin mustache
The “Boston Blackie” kind
A two-toned Ricky Ricardo jacket
And an autographed picture of Andy Divine

Oh, I could be anyone I wanted to be
Maybe suave Errol Flynn or the Sheik of Arab
If I only had a pencil thin mustache
Then I could do some cruising too

Yeah, Bryl cream, a little dab’ll do yah,
Oh, I could do some cruising too