It s a Nineteen-Twenties Song

It s a Nineteen-Twenties tune
Forgive me, I was born too soon,
Going to fake it anyway,
And bring back yesterday.
Inka-dinka-do,
That old soft shoe
And I danced with Georgia Brown.
Muskrat rag
Can you spare me a fag?
And the stock market came dow-w-w-w-w-w-n!

It s A Nineteen-Twenties song,
The decade didn t last too long,
Nineteen-Thirties knocked it flat,
Like a Babe Ruth baseball bat.
Black-face minstrel on a white man s stage,
Girl smoking cigarettes, it s all the rage
And New York made that music move.
Bath-tub gin in your coffee cup
Home-town girl acting so grown up
Those East Coast boys, her Mama won t approve!

Scott Fitzgerald and his wayward wife,
She danced on the tables while he drank up his life
And only Billy Sunday told the truth:
They corrupted the nation s youth!
It s a Nineteen-Twenties dance
If you missed it once, here s another chance.
Charleston, if you can
Honey, swing that man.
It s a Nineteen-Twenties beat,
Hotel ball-room, move your feet.

Flapper with the short, short hair
Young folks, I declare!
Sweet, sweet Sue
Making eyes at you
And a gangster named Capone.
Razz-a-ma-tazz,
And that Dixie jazz
And that famous slide trombone&
It s a Nineteen-Twenties dream---
Make that sweet nostalgia gleam,
Press your ear to the radio
Will Rogers says Hello!
1986