Tell your mother that you are somebody new
Feel the breeze blow and tell 'em all, "Look out here it comes!"
Now I can say whatever I feel like to you

Then keep me six crap-shooting pallbearers
Let a chorus girl sing me a song
Put a red-hot jazz band, we raise
Hallelujah as we go along, well

Well folks, now that you have heard my story
Say boy, hand me another shot of that rye
And if anyone else should ask you
Just tell 'em I've got some of those St. James Infirmary blues