Ladies of Jazz: Remixed

Finally found a fella
Almost completely divine
But his vocabulary
Is killin' this romance of mine
We get into an intimate situation
And then begins this Romeo's conversation

He says, "Murder," he says
Ev'ry time we kiss
He says, "Murder," he says
At a time like this
He says, "Murder," he says
Is that the language of love?

He says, "Solid," he says
Takes me in his arms
And says, "Solid," he says
Meanin' all my charms
He says, "Solid," he says
Is that the language of love?

He says, "Chick, chick, you torture me
Zoot! Are we livin'?"
I'm thinkin' o' leavin' him flat
He says, "Dig, dig, the jumps the old
Ticker is givin'"
Now, he can talk plainer than that

He says, "Murder,"' he says
Ev'ry time we kiss
He says, "Murder," he says
Keep it up like this
And that's, "Murder," he says
In that impossible tone
It will bring on nobody's murder but his own

He says, "Jackson," he says
And my name's Marie
He says, "Jackson," he says
'Shoot the snoot to me'
He says, "Jackson," he says
Is that the language of love?

He says, "Woof, woof," he says
When he likes my hat
He says, "Tsk, tsk," he says
What the heck is that?
He says, "Wooh, wooh," he says
Is that the language of love?

He says, "Hep, hep, with helium
Now babe, we're cookin'"
And other expressions to wit
He says, "We're in da groove
And da groove is good lookin'"
He sounds like his uppers don't fit

He says, "Murder"
He says, "Murder"
And the way he says, "Murder"
In that impossible tone
I've told him over and over and over again
That it'll be nobody else's murder but his own

Them that's got shall have
Them that's not shall lose
So the Bible said and it still is news
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own

Yes, the strong gets more
While the weak ones fade
Empty pockets don't ever make the grade
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own

[Repeat: x2]
Money, you've got lots of friends
Crowding round the door
When you're gone, spending ends
They don't come no more
Rich relations give
Crust of bread and such
You can help yourself
But don't take too much
Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own

Mama may have, Papa may have
But God bless the child that's got his own
That's got his own
He just worry 'bout nothin'
Cause he's got his own
Yes he's got his own

A-Tisket A-Tasket
A green and yellow basket
I bought a basket for my mommie
On the way I dropped it
I dropped it, I dropped it
Yes on the way I dropped it
A little girlie picked it up
And took it to the market
She was truckin' on down the
Avenue without a single thing to do
She was peck, peck, peckin' all around
When she spied it on the ground
A-Tisket A-Tasket
She took my yellow basket
And if she doesn't bring it back
I think that I shall die
(Was it red?)
No, no, no, no
(Was it brown?)
No, no, no, no
(Was it blue)
No, no, no, no
Just a little yellow basket

Hush now, don't explain
Just say you'll remain
I'm glad your back, don't explain

Quiet, don't explain
What is there to gain
Skip that lipstick
Don't explain

You know that I love you
And what endures
All my thoughts of you
For I'm so completely yours

Cry to hear folks chatter
And I know you cheat
Right or wrong, don't matter
When you're with me, sweet

Hush now, don't explain
You're my joy and pain
My life's yours love
Don't explain