[WARNING: This song contains antiquated racial stereotypes. It is presented here for historical and educational purposes only.]
From the 1928 revue “This Year of Grace”.
Words and music by Noel Coward.
The sheet music:
Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:
Lyrics
Though you’re only seventeen
Far too much of life you’ve seen
Syncopated child
Maybe if you only knew
Where your path is leading to
You’d become less wild
But I know it’s vain trying to explain
While there’s this insane music in your brain
Refrain
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
Youth is fleeting to the rhythm
Beating in your mind
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
So obsessed with second best
No rest you’ll ever find
Time and tide and trouble
Never, never wait
Let the cauldron bubble
Justify your fate
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
Leave tomorrow behind
When the saxophone gives a wicked moan
Charleston, Hey, hey
Rhythms fall and rise
Start dancing to the tune the band’s crooning
For soon the night will be gone
Start swaying like a reed without heeding
The speed that hurries you on
Nigger melodies syncopate your nerves
Till your body curves
Drooping, stooping, laughter some day dies
And when the lights are starting to gutter
Dawn through the shutter shows you’re living
In a world of lies
Refrain
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
Youth is fleeting to the rhythm
Beating in your mind
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
So obsessed with second best
No rest you’ll ever find
Time and tide and trouble
Never, never wait
Let the cauldron bubble
Justify your fate
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
Dance, dance, dance, little lady
Leave your troubles behind
Sung here by Fred Feild: