Paroles The Real American Folk Song de Ella Fitzgerald

Textes et Paroles de The Real American Folk Song

Near Barcelona, the peasant croonedThe old traditional Spanish tunesThe Neapolitan street song sighsYou think of Italian skysEach nation has a creative veinOriginating a native strainWith folk songs plaintive and others gayIn their own peculiar wayAmerican folk songs, I feelHave a much stronger appealThe real American folksong is a ragA mental jagA rhythmic tonic for the chronic bluesThe critics called it a "joke song" but nowThey've changed their tune, and they like it, somehowFor it's innoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeterThan a classic strain, boy you can't remain, still or quiet, for it's a riotThe real American folksongIs like a fountain of youthYou taste, and it elates you, and then, invigorates youThe real American folksong, the masses coaxed on, is a rag(instrumental break)The real American folksong is a ragA mental jagA rhythmic tonic for the chronic bluesThe critics called it a "joke song" but nowThey've changed their tune, and they like it, somehowFor it's innoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeterThan a classic strain, boy you can't remain, still or quiet, for it's a riotThe real American folksongIs like a fountain of youthYou taste, and it elates you, and then, invigorates youThe real American folksong, is a rag

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