You made the coat and vest
Should fit me the best
You sewed the buttons strong
But Sam, you made the pants too long

Far from the Bronx I flew
Around the world to you
'Cause they said you're the best custom tailor in Hong Kong
Sam, you made the pants 'bout a foot and a half too long

First I took a jet
Then I took a clipper
Then I took a ricksha to your door
And now Sam, I regret
My chin's caught in my zipper
And my cuffs are down there polishing the floor

Oh, what a thrill divine
When I first saw your sign
It said, "For service, kindly bong the gong."
I bonged, and then mine pants went wrong

I don't like to complain
Or cause a demonstration
But the belt is in my armpits, if you please
I'm trying to explain
My pants need alteration
How do you say "oy vay" in Chinese?
I've been here six long weeks
My pagoda leaks
I thought your name was Feldman, but it's Fong!
Sam Fong, you made the pants too long!