Black Rhythm Lyrics - Singles - Cab Calloway

Down in Louisiana 

There's a grand piano playing man 

He knows that they can't kid him 

'Cause he's got hot rhythm in his hand 

The blues that he'll compose will thrill you 

From your head to your toes 

He called his song, black rhythm 

'Cause his black hands did it 'neath the moon 

The keys he plays on sweetly 

And you're left completely in a swoon 

The melancholy strum 

Mixed with the rum-tum of melodious blues 

When he plays the blue note 

And adds a new note 

You'll think that he wrote a symphony 

But he's just improvising 

On a southern mammy melody 

You'll quit your pouting 

And start a-shouting 

No need in doubting he knows the keys 

He can lay on the white ones 

Can play on the black ones with ease 

The way he plays, black rhythm 

Makes the gang stick with him all night long 

Forget the hour is late 

They hear him syncopate his mournful song 

A-humming like the breeze 

A-strumming lightly on those ivories