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Текст (слова) песни: Ella Fitzgerald - The Real American Folk Song



Near barcelona, the peasant crooned

The old traditional spanish tunes

The neapolitan street song sighs

You think of italian skys

Each nation has a creative vein

Originating a native strain

With folk songs plaintive and others gay

In their own peculiar way

American folk songs, I feel

Have a much stronger appeal

The real american folksong is a rag

A mental jag

A rhythmic tonic for the chronic blues

The critics called it a "joke song" but now

Theyve changed their tune, and they like it, somehow

For its innoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeter

Than a classic strain, boy you cant remain, still or quiet, for its a riot

The real american folksong

Is like a fountain of youth

You taste, and it elates you, and then, invigorates you

The real american folksong, the masses coaxed on, is a rag

(instrumental break)

The real american folksong is a rag

A mental jag

A rhythmic tonic for the chronic blues

The critics called it a "joke song" but now

Theyve changed their tune, and they like it, somehow

For its innoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeter

Than a classic strain, boy you cant remain, still or quiet, for its a riot

The real american folksong

Is like a fountain of youth

You taste, and it elates you, and then, invigorates you

The real american folksong, is a rag

 

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