SING, YOU SINNERS
(W Frank Harling (m) Sam Coslow (l) 1930)
as recorded by Rosemary Clooney
with The Buddy Cole Trio 1959
You sinners, drop everything,
Let that harmony ring
Up to heaven and sing,
Sing, you sinners!
Just wave your arms all about,
Let the Lord hear you shout,
Pour that music right out,
Sing, you sinners!
Whenever there's music,
The devil kicks!
He don't allow music
By the River Styx!
You're wicked and you're depraved,
And you've all misbehaved,
If you wanna be saved,
Sing, you sinners!
You sinners, drop everything,
Let that harmony ring
Up to heaven
And sing, you sinners!
Just wave your arms all about,
Let the Lord hear you shout,
Pour that music
And sing, you sinners!
Whenever there's music,
The devil kicks!
He don't allow music
By the River Styx!
You're wicked and you're depraved,
And you've all misbehaved,
If you wanna be saved,
Sing, you sinners!
Come on and sing, sing, sing!
(Transcribed by Peter Akers - February 2014)
**********************
SING YOU SINNERS
(Music by W. Frank Harling / Original lyric by Sam Coslow, 1930 / Vocalese lyric by Kurt Elling based
on the recording by Fletcher Henderson, 1937 / Additional lyrics and vocal arr. by Janice Siegal for
The Manhattan Transfer recording, 1997)
Once a mockingbird - he was overheard
singing out a word - to a cattle herd,
'All you bovine creatures - dig what I'm layin' down!
All you sinners drop everything.
Everything
Let the melody and the harmony ring.
Let it ring
Lift arms up to Heaven and sing.
Ring-a-ding
Sing you sinners, won't you sway & swing
What a thing
Start with clapping' y'hands all about.
All about
Don't be silent - Let the Lord hear y'shout
Shout it out
And just let the music come out
Of yer snout
Sing you sinners, wontcha' sway & swing
Check it out
Dig the drift of what I mean
In a world where there's no music - Old Scratch
Satan gets his kicks - He's up to his tricks
He'll be laughing up & down the banks - He, He, He!
Of that River Styx
You're so wicked, baby, and you're depraved
You can rave
It's apparent that you have mis-behaved
To your grave
But if you should want to be saved
Jus' behave
Take a listen now to the bird . . .
(Janis' solo)
Stop all that chewin' yer cud - and all that standin' in the mud
there.
Swing, people! Swing every chortle from yer mortal portal.
I dig that everyone believes that cattle prodigies are like a sneeze:
hard blowin', missin one lick of blowin' talent to show.
If you sing, you gotta swing
Just remember that the day will come when you will just be steak on
a plate.
Folk, you know it's fate!
So dig the music of the swing-o-sphere - before yer swing arrives
too late.
That's a little too dark.
Still, it is true, we've got breath for such a limited time.
What are ya', stupid? You cows - you'd think to sing was a crime.
In defence now, hence now, here comes Adele McCluck:
Cheryl's solo)
Mrs. Mockingbird, I must say, you haven't heard the friendly
bellowing swing
of our friends the cows as they shed their way from Teagarden to
Fuller.
Instead of spendin' every day just sneakin' around to lift another
lick -
These cats work on their cow-tone so when they get up to blow a
fatter bone-tone
into the ozone.
And, furthermore
(Alan's solo)
You tweety birds are always singin' away - never givin' up a thought
of what you say.
We cows do - shedding takes up most of our day
So when we start & settle in to play we can say:
A moo is an array of what cows have always known as the best and
only way to play.
What we mean to say is
Before the band will let you sing
Sing with Fletcher Henderson
You'd better get yourself to swing
Like the Bean or Satch
So your horn can blow a single note or two of deeper thinking
That's the way to swing
So set your mind upon a tone
When you're sheddin' all alone
And you will have a cornerstone
Like the bass trombone
Blow your horn and take a bow
So that you're swingin' like the cows
Pythagoras would be so proud of us.
