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... Louis Jordan - Somebody Up There Digs Me ...

Recorded in New York City , October 22, 23, 1956

Louis Jordan - vocals, alto saxophone
Sam "The Man" Taylor - tenor saxophone
Budd Johnson - baritone, tenor saxophone
Jimmy Cleveland - trombone

One night farmer Brown was takin' the airs
Locked up the barnyard with the greatest of care
Down in the hen house, somethin' stirred
When he shouted, "Who's there?"
This is what he heard

“There ain't nobody here but us chickens
There ain't nobody here at all

Left Chicago in the summer, New York in the fall
Detroit in the winter didn't prove a thing at all
I got those roamin' blues, yes, I got those roamin' blues
Can't find no place to settle, woo, I got those roamin' blues

Joined a club in old Saint Louis, that G.I. free loot club
Stood in line so long man, wore my legs down to a nub
I hit the road again, yes, I hit the road again

Walkin with my baby shes got great big feet
Shes long, lean, and lanky and aint had nothing to eat
Shes my baby and I love her just the same
Crazy bout that woman cause Caldonia is her name
Caldonia
Caldonia
What makes your big head so hard?
I love her. I love her just the same

Headin' for the station with a pack on my back
I'm tired of transportation in the back of my hack
I love to hear the rhythm of the clickety clack
And hear the lonesome whistle see the smoke from the stack to pal around
With democratic fellow named Mac
So take me right back to the track, Jack

Choo-choo, choo-choo, ch'boogie, woo-woo

Let me tell you a story from way back,
truck on down and dig me, Jack,
there's Big Moe, little biddy Moe, four eyed Moe, No Moe,
Look at brother, look at brother, look at brother,
eat Moe!

ALL:
Who's the greatest band around,

Let the cats all criticize,
Joke about my baby's size;
She's reet with me
Because you see:
I like 'em fat like that.

When she bounces down the street,
She's a whole heap o' honey, and ain't she sweet?

Oh, life
(Is so peculiar)
(You get so wet in the rain)
You know it too
(Mm, hmm)

You get so warm in the sunshine
(Get my suntan)

I'm gonna move baby, way out on the outskirts of town
I'm gonna move baby, way out on the outskirts of town
You see I don't need no-body, always hangin' 'round

Let me tell you honey, we gonna move away from here
I don't need no iceman, I'm gonna, get you a Frigidaire
When we move, way out on the outskirts of town
Whoa, you see we won't need no-body, always hangin' 'round

I like cake, no mistake, but baby if you insist
I'll cut out the cake, just for your sake
Baby! c'mon and knock me a kiss

I like pie, i hope to die, just to get a load of this
When you get high, doggone the pie
Baby! c'mon and knock me a kiss

Mop, mop, a thousand years ago
Mop, mop, a guy named Jungle Joe
Was a drummer man in a Zulu band
That made swing history

Mop, mop, one day the king said
Gate, why Gate, you old reprobate
I commission you, find a riff that's new

Never Trust a Woman

Don't ever trust a woman
Until she's dead and buried
Yes don't ever trust a woman
Until she's dead and buried
One day she'll say that she loves you
And the next day she'll throw you in the street

A woman is the sweetest thing
on that we all agree
but when she gets the wedding band
a mans no longer free

That's why I'm safe, sane and single
I'm on my merry way
Yes I'm safe, sane and single

Now if you've ever been down to new orleans
Then you can understand just what i mean
All thru the week it's quiet as a mouse
But on saturday night they go from house to house
You don't have to pay the usual admission
If you're a cook, a waiter or a good musician
So if you happen to be just passin' by
Stop in at the saturday night fish fry

01. A Chicken Ain't Nothin' But A Bird
02. Ain't That Just Like A Woman
03. All For The Love Of Lil
04. At The Swing Cats Ball
05. Barnyard Boogie
06. Beware
07. Blue Light Boogie
08. Buzz Me

This is a morbid story about a fella that had to die,
he had a beautiful wife but he also had a roving eye.

She planted him by the roadside,
She planted him by the roadside,
She planted him by the roadside,
for all the unfaithful husbands to see.

Who doubt say, who doubt when I say, who doubt...
You cats keep beetin' up your chops
I had turn you over to the cops
I dig this spiel I'm going way on your gate
Don't cop your broom pop or buddy or mate

You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother
You run your mouth and I'll run my business brother

You catch me beatin' up your chops?
I ought to turn you over to the cops,
But dig this spiel I'm going to lay on you, gate,
Don't cop your broom, park the body and wait.

You run your mouth and I'll run my business, brother,
You run your mouth and I'll run my business, brother,
You tell everybody I'm busted,