Hand me down my walking shoes
And Mr. Murdoch’s news
I’m going thunder rain or shine
Got a papoose on my back
We’re on the right track, Jack
To leave the beatnik blues behind

Amsterdam, where good things come in threes
Ease your troubled mind and shoot the breeze

Take the path down to the mill
I’m going to get my fill
I’m going to eat till the pot runs dry
Anne Frank’s house and Rembrandt’s tomb
I’d better make some room
‘Cause Brother Vincent’s on my mind

Life goes on behind the tiles and chintzes
Dirty water fit for kings and princes

Dutch is not a loving tongue
You say your piece and run
You show you care in other ways
Sailors in their Sunday best
I’m feeling overdressed
I’ve got to lose these blacks and greys

Amsterdam, where good things come in threes
Soothe your troubled mind and shoot the breeze

Hand me down my walking shoes
Hand me down my walking shoes
Got to leave these beatnik blues behind