Whacky Dust 17/8/1938 - Ella Fitzgerald, Chick Webb & His Orchestra

They call it wacky dust

It’s from a hot cornet

It gives your feet a feeling so breezy

And oh, it’s so easy to get

They call it wacky dust

It brings a dancing jag

And once it starts, then only a

Sap’ll refuse to Big Apple or Shag

Oh I don’t know just why it gets you so high

Putting a buzz in you heart

You’ll do a marathon you’ll wanna go on

Kickin' the ceilin' apart

They call it wacky dust

It’s something you can’t trust

And in the end the rhythm will stop

When it does, then you’ll drop

From happy wacky dust

Oh we don’t know just why it gets you so high

Putting a buzz in you heart

You’ll do a marathon you’ll wanna go on

Kickin' the ceilin' apart

They call it wacky dust, yeah

It’s something you can’t trust

And in the end the rhythm will stop

When it does, then you’ll drop

From happy wacky

The rhythm will stop

When it does, then you’ll drop

From happy wacky dust