Verse:
Every Sunday afternoon, up at the Arrowhead,
We sharpen up each knife and spoon,
Get ready to be fed.
We polish off the entrée,
Our throats with soup refresh.
The main dish comes – the main dish goes –
The way of all the flesh.
The meat may be a potted roast –
The soup green pea or noodle.
But the one dish that we love the most
Is Yudel’s apple shtrudel.
Chorus:
Shoot the shtrudel to me Yudel,
Watch my tongue hang out with glee.
‘Cause I know that kind of food’ll
Brighten up the day for me.
Let me grapple with that apple –
Let me taste those flakes sublime.
Raisin filling’s very thrilling
In apple shtrudel time.
Interlude:
Oh, I’ll be with you in apple shttrudll time –
I’ll be with you where all the Slutskys dine.
Evrybody’s eating the big apple – the big apple shtrudel pie.
When Yudel shoots that shtrudel to me,
I could eat till I die. Oh –
(Repeat Chorus to ending)