One night long ago by the light of the moon,
An old music master sat composing a tune,
His spirit was soaring and his heart full of joy,
When right out of nowhere stepped a little colored boy
You gotta jump it music master,
You gotta play that rhythm faster
You're never gonna get it played on the Happy Cat Hit Parade
You better tell your friend Beethoven, and Mister Reginald De Koven
They better do the same as you, Or they're gonna be corny too
Long about nineteen seventeen
Jazz'll come upon the scene,
Then about nineteen thirty five,
You'll begin to hear swing, Boogie Woogie and Jive
You gotta show that big broadcaster,
That you're a solid music master,
And you'll achieve posterity, that's a bit of advice from me
The old music master simply sat there amazed,
As wide eyed and open mouthed he gazed, and he gazed,
How can you be certain little boy, tell me how?
Because I was born, my friend, a hundred years from now
He hit a chord that rocked the
spinet and disappeared in "the infinite,"
And up until the present day,
you can take it from me he's as right as you can be,
Everything has happened that-a-way.
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