|
(Cole Porter) |
|
Louis Armstrong - 1956 |
|
[Armstrong] |
|
Just dig that scenery floating by, |
|
We're now approaching Newport, Rhode I. |
|
We've been, for years, In Variety, |
|
But, Cholly Knickerbocker, now we're going to be |
|
[All] |
|
In High, High So- |
|
High So-ci-, |
|
High So-ci-ety. |
|
[Armstrong] |
|
I wanna play for my former pal- |
|
He runs the local jazz festival. |
|
His name is Dexter and he's good news, |
|
But sumping kind of tells me that he's nursing the blues |
|
[All] |
|
In High, High So-, |
|
High So-ci-, |
|
High So-ci-ety. |
|
[Armstrong] |
|
He's got the blues 'cause his wife, alas, |
|
Thought writing songs was beneath his class, |
|
But writing songs he'd not stop, of course, |
|
And so she flew to Vegas for a quickie divorce |
|
[All] |
|
In High, High So-, |
|
High So-ci-, |
|
High So-ci-ety. |
|
[Armstrong] |
|
To make him sadder, his former wife |
|
begins tomorrow a brand-new life. |
|
She started lately a new affair |
|
And now the silly chick is gonna marry a square |
|
[All] |
|
In High So-, |
|
High So-ci-, |
|
High So-ci-ety. |
|
[Armstrong] |
|
But, Brother Dexter, just trust your Satch, |
|
To stop that wedding and kill that match. |
|
I'll toot my trumpet to start the fun, |
|
And play in such a way that she'll come back to you, son, |
|
[All] |
|
In High, High So- |
|
High So-ci-, |
|
High So-ci-ety. |
