Some thought it looked dashing, some thought it absurd,
'Twas the color of lemon or canary bird.
It was stained with spaghetti and blueberry pie,
But I really was somethin' in my old yellow tie.

This spot marks the time I had pea soup for lunch,
And this one the party where I fell in the punch.
There's a trace of French dressing and gravy galore,
And my old yellow tie isn't yellow no more.

Somewhere in a pile of clothes for the poor,
Is a fine silken tie that I formerly wore.
The thought of it now brings a tear to my eye,
And I wish I was wearin' my old yellow tie.

Well look at me now throwin' money around,
I eat five dollar burgers and fries by the pound.
I've got hamburger grease on my shirt and my fly,
And I wish I was wearin' my old yellow tie.

Lord I wish I was wearin' my old yellow tie.