Just dig that scenery floating by, We're now approaching Newport, Rhode I. We've been, for years, In Variety, But, Cholly Knickerbocker, now we're going to be In High, High So- High So-ci-, High So-ci-ety. I wanna play for my former pal- He runs the local jazz festival. His name is Dexter and he's good news, But sumping kind of tells me that he's nursing the blues In High, High So-, High So-ci-, High So-ci-ety. [Armstrong] He's got the blues 'cause his wife, alas, Thought writing songs was beneath his cla**, But writing songs he'd not stop, of course, And so she flew to Vegas for a quickie divorce In High, High So-, High So-ci-, High So-ci-ety. To make him sadder, his former wife begins tomorrow a brand-new life. She started lately a new affair And now the silly chick is gonna marry a square In High So-, High So-ci-, High So-ci-ety. But, Brother Dexter, just trust your Satch, To stop that wedding and k** that match. I'll toot my trumpet to start the fun, And play in such a way that she'll come back to you, son, In High, High So- High So-ci-, High So-ci-ety.