The Real American Folk Song (Is a Rag) - Ella Fitzgerald, Nelson Riddle

Near Barcelona the peasant croons

The old traditional Spanish tunes

The Neapolitan street song sighs

You think of Italian skies

Each nation has a creative vein

Originating a native strain

With folk songs plaintive and others gay

In their own peculiar way

American folk songs, I feel

Have a much stronger appeal

The real American folk song is a rag

A mental jag

A rhythmic tonic

For the chronic

Blues

The critics called it a joke song, but now

They’ve changed their tune

And they like it somehow

For it’s inoculated

With a syncopated

Sort of meter

Sweeter

Than a classic strain

Boys, you can’t remain

Still and quiet

For it’s a riot

The real American folk song

Is like a fountain of youth

You taste and it elates you

And then invigorates you

The real American folk song

A masterstroke song

Is a rag!

You may dislike or you may adore

The native songs from a foreign shore

They may be songs you can’t forget

They may be distinctive, yet

They lack a something, a certain snap

The tempo ticklish that makes you tap

The invitation to agitate

And leave the rest to fate

A raggy refrain anytime

Sends a message sublime

The real American folk song is a rag

A mental jag

A rhythmic tonic

For the chronic

Blues

The critics called it a joke song, but now

They’ve changed their tune

And they like it somehow

For it’s inoculated

With a syncopated

Sort of meter

Sweeter

Than a classic strain

Boys, you can’t remain

Still and quiet

For it’s a riot

The real American folk song

Is like a fountain of youth

You taste and it elates you

And then invigorates you

The real American folk song

A masterstroke song

Is a rag!