I've often wondered why, as a fireman races by, How often have I said, "why are fire engines red? " Just ask the boys in firehouse 35 Singin' firehouse thirty five, firehouse thirty five In between all the fires they are quenchin' their desires, There's a hot time in firehouse thirty five. It's a sin and it's a shame, I thought checkers was their game, But I found to my suprise why there's fire in their eyes, Just ask the boys in firehouse 35. It's a fire marshall's dream, they blow away their steam, But to make them leave their charms you need four or five alarms, Just ask the boys in firehouse 35. So here's a root and here's a toot for the gals of I'll repute, At last it can be told why they're racin' up those poles, Just ask the boys in firehouse 35.