Lyrics Old Man Harlem - Ella Fitzgerald, Chick Webb

Old Man Harlem

Day-light gives me the shivers,
Harlem did it some-how.
Always hav-ing the jitters,
Should be used to it now.
Seventh Av-en-ue night life,
Gets me bod-y and soul,
Len-ox Av-en-ue mid-night,
Gets my Sat-ur-day roll.
Old Man Harlem gives me Sunday head-aches.
I’ve got Old Man Har-lem in my bones.
Always finds me danc-ing when the day breaks,
But that Old Man Harlem keeps me roll-ing on.
He takes all your dough and keeps you skimp-ing,
Makes you old and gray be-fore you’re limp-ing.
Old Man Harlem gives me Sunday head-aches,
But that Old Man Harlem keeps me rolling on.