Ella Fitzgerald - The Real American Folk Song lyrics

Near barcelona, the peasant crooned The old traditional spanish tunes The neapolitan street song sighs You think of italian skys 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 folksong 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 innoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeter Than a cla**ic strain, boy you can't remain, still or quiet, for it's a riot The real american folksong Is like a fountain of youth You taste, and it elates you, and then, invigorates you The real american folksong, the ma**es coaxed on, is a rag (instrumental break) The real american folksong 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 innoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeter Than a cla**ic strain, boy you can't remain, still or quiet, for it's a riot The real american folksong Is like a fountain of youth You taste, and it elates you, and then, invigorates you The real american folksong, is a rag