| It was up at Mike’s the other night
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| There was really quite a sight
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| Gather round, folks, while I give you all the lowdown
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| Tables were filled with gaudy frails
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| Chewing on their fingernails;
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| They were waiting for the man from Harlem
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| Drinks were served six bits a throw
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| Things were moving kind of slow
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| Everybody’s nerves were getting jumpy
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| All at once the room was still
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| Men forgot all about their bill
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| Who should enter but the man from Harlem
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| Everybody rolled their eyes
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| Women starting heaving sighs
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| Someone hollered, «Music, lights and gin,»
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| Everybody cleared a space
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| They had big, broad smiles on every face
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| How they all loved to see the man from Harlem
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| When he started in to step
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| He filled everyone with plenty pep
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| He twitched and squirmed; |
| it just was a dirty shame
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| Everyone was in a daze
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| Women watched him with amaze
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| Each one said she’d have the man from Harlem
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| He looked over in the corner
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| And saw a couple of frails and they sure did look kinda low
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| Another cat walked up, and said to the man from Harlem
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| «Go over there and see what’s the matter with them girls.»
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| And they said, «I'm kinda low.»
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| And he said, «I've got just what you need:
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| Come on, sisters, light up on these weeds and get high and forget about
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| everything.» |