April in Paris is grand. Who could deny it? October in New England is delightful. You must try it. June, July, and August. Straight to Venice by the sea. But when the air turns chilly, there's just one place that I really want to be. I love Manhattan in December. I like the big apple dipped in snow. Christmas everywhere with colored lights to spare. And Broadway looking great in winter glow. I love Manhattan in December. Give me the park when the trees are bare. Skate around the lake. Catch a cold snowflake. Or ride a carriage through the crispy air. Sitting in my cozy flat on 44th Street. Playing at King Cole and putting up my feet. I'm looking out my window thinking, gee, my life is sweet. Hell's Kitchen looks like heaven in the snow by now you know. I dig Manhattan in December. The windows down at Bergdorf's will amaze. Shop until you drop in the town that doesn't stop. It's the hippest place for happy holidays. I dig Manhattan in December. Those taxis won't stop honking, but it's jingle bells to me when I put my tin angel atop my Christmas tree. And with Santas on each corner, one is sure to visit me. But everything I want's already here this time of year. September, November, I'm drifting fancy free. But Yuletide and Christmas, there's just one place to be. It's easy to remember. Manhattan in December. Try it and I'm sure you'll agree. Manhattan in December. Won't you spend it with me? Christmas is coming. The city is humming. So spend it with me.