Lyrics Give It Back to the Indians - Ella Fitzgerald

Give It Back to the Indians

Old Peter Minuet had nothing to lose when he bought the isle of Manhatten
For twenty-six dollars and a bottle of booze and they threw in the Bronx and
Staten
Pete thought that he had the best of the bargin but the poor red man just
grinned
And he grunted «ugh!»
meaning okay in his jargon for he knew poor Pete was
skinned
We’ve tried to run the city, but the city ran away
And now Peter Minuet
We can’t continue it
Broadway’s turning into Coney
Champagne Charlie’s drinking gin
Old New York is new and phony
Give it back to the Indians!
Two cents more to smoke a Lucky
Dodging busses keep you thin
Now New York is simply ducky
Give it back to the Indians!
Take all the reds, on the boxes made for soap
Whites on Fifth Avenue
Blues down in Wall Street losing hope
Big bargain today, Chief take it away!
Come you busted city slickers
Better take it on the chin
Father Nick has lost his knickers
Give it back to the Indians!