| One night long ago by the light of the moon | 
| An old music master sat compossing a tune | 
| His spirit was soaring and his heart full of joy | 
| When right out of nowhere stepped a little colored boy | 
| You gotta jump it, music master | 
| You gotta play that rhythm faster | 
| You’re never gonna get it played | 
| On the Happy Cat Hit Parade | 
| You better tell your friend Beethoven | 
| And Mister Reginald De Koven | 
| They gotta do the same as you | 
| Or they’re gonna be corny too | 
| Along about nineteen-seventeen | 
| Jazz’ll come upon the scene | 
| Then about nineteen-thirty-five | 
| You’ll begin to hear swing, boogie-woogie and jive | 
| You better tell the big broadcaster | 
| That you’re a solid music master | 
| And you’ll achieve posterity | 
| That’s a bit of advice from me | 
| The old music master simply sat there amazed | 
| As wide-eyed and open-mouthed he gazed and he gazed | 
| How can you be certain little boy, tell me how? | 
| Because I was born, he said, hundred years from now | 
| He hit a chord that rocked the spinet | 
| And disappeared into the infinite | 
| And up until the present day | 
| You can take it from me, he’s as right as can be | 
| Everything has happened that-a-way | 
| Along about nineteen-seventeen | 
| Jazz’ll come upon the scene | 
| Then about nineteen-thirty-five | 
| You’ll begin to hear swing, boogie-woogie and jive | 
| He hit a chord that rocked the spinet | 
| And disappeared into the infinite | 
| And up until the present day | 
| You can take it from me, he’s as right as can be | 
| Everything has happened that-a-way, yeah |