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Cab Calloway - Black Rhythm Lyrics

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  • Down in Louisiana
  • There's a grand piano-playing man;
  • He knows that they can't kid him
  • 'Cause he's got hot rhythm in his hand.
  • The blues that he'll compose will thrill you
  • From your head to your toes.
  • He called his song "Black Rhythm,"
  • 'Cause his black hands did it 'neath the moon,
  • The keys he plays on sweetly,
  • And you're left completely in a swoon.
  • The melancholy strum
  • Mixed with the rum-tum of melodious blues.
  • When he plays the blue note,
  • And adds a new note,
  • You'll think that he wrote a symphony.
  • But he's just improvising
  • On a southern mammy melody.
  • You'll quit your pouting,
  • And start a'shouting,
  • No need in doubting he knows the keys.
  • He can lay on the white ones,
  • Can play on the black ones with ease.
  • The way he plays Black Rhythm
  • Makes the gang stick with him all night long,
  • Forget the hour is late,
  • They hear him syncopate his mournful song.
  • A'humming like the breeze,
  • A' strumming lightly on those ivories.

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