YOU’RE OUTA HERE

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "The Minor Drag")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

You’re more than a minor drag……

 

Now the clock on the wall says 11:30

Give a minute or two

When the little and the big hand meet at 12

I want to see the last of you

I know I said I loved you, but tonight, my honey dear

Three other words are on my mind:

You’re outa here

 

Take your books and your bike and your Barcalounger

Leave the table and chairs

Keep your big mouth shut or I’ll tell you what

You’re gonna feel your butt bounce down the stairs

No time for explanations or one more German beer

Put down the chips and read my lips:

You’re outa here

 

Go, damn you, go

None of your crying

No reminders of the tender kiss

You won’t be supplying

Book the Plaza, sleep in the park, or

Ring up that blonde cashier

Stay wherever you want to

You’re outa here

 

You never will back down

Your favorite pastime is to nag me

You bully and you bluster

Like some would-be Jimmy Cagney

My sweaters are too small

My 501s are far too baggy

It bugs me, it bugs me

I’ve got to set you free

 

Tick-tock, tick-tock

That’s yours, that’s mine

Keep an eye on the clock

Leave this, take that,

Wait, that was mine – oh well it’s fine

Don’t stop, don’t stop

Oo-wee, you look ready to me, so

Call a cab, that’s that

Close the door, don’t step on the cat

 

It’s not the way you got next to me

Just to borrow my car

The little things you do and say

Betray the guy you are

You called my doorman “Pancho”

And my Uncle Bob “a queer”

I sure don’t dig where you’re comin’ from

And now you’re outa here

 

I was alone in bed because you said

You were hangin’ with the guys

Rolled over to hug your pillow

And much to my surprise

Underneath that pillow

Was a polka-dot brassiere

I never cared for polka-dots

Mm, you’re outa here

 

Tock-tick, tock-tick

That’s yours, that’s mine

Get a move on it, Slick

Take this, and that

Wait, that one’s mine, oh hell it’s fine

Make like a tree and leave

Oo-woo, won’t do to

Sit there like a bump on a log

Hit the road

Steer clear of the dog

 

Sayonara, see you around

One day I’ll catch you on the rebound

Take a 20 if you wish

But don’t yell, you’ll frighten the fish

Hop to, hop to, you got

10 seconds to grab a clue

I know I swore that I loved you

But tonight I’m even more sincere

When I say so long, you’re outa here


TOO GOOD LOOKIN'

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "Blue Black Bottom")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

You got a face that beckons commuters on every subway

A pair of eyes that Leo da Vinci would love to draw

The kind of lips that hardly anyone was actually born with

The kind of body that doesn’t have a single flaw

 

Now that you've risen to glory on your camera-friendly cheekbones

You don't get into make-up for less than 20 G's , maybe 30

You're quite impossible to flatter

That's right, it really doesn't matter

You smile and half the world is on its knees

 

Now why is that?

 

‘Cause you’re a little too good-lookin'

A little too good-lookin'

When they handed out the genes you shouted "Bingo"

Because your parts all work together

They all work together

With the synergy of John, Paul, George and Ringo

 

You can't relate

You make little jokes

About the weight

Of us normal folks

 

You might be slightly out of touch it's true

Who wouldn't be if they were you

You could be just a little too good-lookin'

 

On TV you proselytize

'Bout your own brand of exercise

How I crave the dynamism

Of your fast metabolism

You're here, you're there, you're everywhere

You're like a constant fever dream

My friend saw you uptown

Swore up and down

You were flawless as you seem

 

In that magazine

You came off regal as a queen

Oh sure some pundits found it crude

You were totally, totally, totally nude

 

As if they could turn away

From your nuclear appeal!

Your consummate loveliness is nothing less

Than the American ideal

 

You were a teenage goddess when you first hit Manhattan

You and your mama got off the bus from Crested Butte

Before you had the opportunity to write a single postcard

You caught the notice of an Oscar de la Renta suit

 

Before you knew it, you were parading down the catwalk

Done up in almost nothing but a look of pure disdain

You know the men’ll want to meet you

Although they’re only gonna to treat you

As if you simply couldn’t have a brain

 

'Cause you're a little too good-lookin'

A little too good-lookin'

With a closet twice the size of Colorado

Because you cultivate your beauty

It's a sacred duty

Late at night you smear your bod with avocado

 

Front cover news, you're stayin' mighty hot

High-level schmooze, parlayin' what you got

Into what you choose

There’s gonna be a day

It all slip-slides away

 

But last year God knows how much you took in

Just because you're so good lookin'

Guess you can't be too good

 

If they asked you

You could write a book

A book about how good you look


CALIFORNIA STREET

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "Bond Street")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

The shore was right on the brink of night

The pier was decked in electric light

We laughed and chattered

Our faces bright from the heat

 

We pulled our shoes off, shook out the sand

We headed east and you grabbed my hand

My mood was reckless, your smile was sweet

As we slowly ambled up to California Street

 

Set free, school was done and gone

And we counted on

The time till September

To hold us forever

 

We planned our moves, pictured how we’d dress

To crash the party they called Success

A fragile vision still incomplete

As you wrapped me in your arms on California Street

 

The Santa Anas were gusting

The long tall trees

Were listing at a graceful 45 degrees

A local band began to shine

On songs from circa 1969

 

The amber sun had tumbled

To meet the sea

Spilled over the horizon

Like a cup of tea

We couldn’t find one reason why

Our future wasn’t golden as the sky

 

You murmured words no one else could hear

Tucked a hibiscus behind my ear

Bring on tomorrow, we had it beat

By the promise that we made on California Street

 

From heart to heart we felt our lives begin

As every dream we ever knew, came rushing in

Whatever happened would happen soon

Our future full of mystery as the moon


GAL ON THE SIDE

Part II:

SHE'S GETTIN' SOME

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "Gladyse")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

The girl put down her little suitcase for a moment and checked her watch. She'd been waiting by the garden gate for some time…waiting for her lover to come and fetch her for their ride into the proverbial sunset. But he said he had one thing to do first:  say goodbye and good luck to the Mrs. - a woman the girl waiting by the garden gate had never met.  She had been described as his female counterpart in what – in years gone by - had been a passion play, but now had devolved into, sadly, no more than a brother and sister act.

 

Well, the birds twittering in the nearby honeysuckle vines found this all somewhat questionable; and they mocked the girl (although they were not mockingbirds) with a little ditty, a taunting little ditty that went like this:

 

He's been seeing you on the side

And the passion won’t be denied

All I'm saying is, girl, now don't you be dumb

You know she's gettin' some

 

At their cabin in Monterey

After dinner or PTA

One martini, that boy is bound to succumb

She's gettin' some

 

Though he tells you he's gonna split

Something in you won't swallow it

Still you hesitate to admit

They're doin’ the horizontal tango

 

Is he savin' it up for you

I'll eat my hat it it's really true

Sorry honey, but I just don't trust the bum

She's gettin' some

 

She’s in the game

She’s got the name

The love you want from your sweet pea

Is still community property

 

On their sabbatical to Paree

Or in the back of their SUV

While you're waitin’ for him to toss you a crumb

She's gettin' some

 

You haven't got a face to sneeze at

Or a kiss to disregard

But maybe all it takes to please that man

Is right smack in his own back yard

 

While you're trimmin’ your hollyhocks

Watchin' "Oprah" or darnin' socks

Thinkin' 'bout the dime novel life has become

She's gettin' some

 

Silly girlie

What are you gonna do when he

What are you gonna do when he

What are you gonna do when he lies to you

What are you gonna do when he

What are you gonna do when he

What are you gonna do when he lies

 

Men are fools

And passion cools

Oh what are you gonna do when it

What are you gonna do when it

What are you gonna do when it dies…

 

Though you figure you've got it planned

Got the situation well in hand

Deep inside, you do understand

That stealing the candy is a no-no

 

At the charity masquerade

You saw him nibble her shoulder blade

Tell me stranger, what planet have you come from

She's gettin' some

 

Fly, fly high and away

You'll spy a true love some day

Why keep moonin' while they're spoonin'

 

No need to wonder

If he's under

Someone else's dainty thumb

Though it's upsetting

Smart money's betting

That girl is getting some


IN LIVING BLACK AND WHITE

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "Numb Fumblin'")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

He was a rascal to remember

And he's captured here in living black and white

A cutie on his left

An empty brandy bottle to his right

At the edge of the frame

You can see the Steinway Grand

He would man through the night

 

He played the organ with a silent movie

Flickering in living black and white

He might start swingin' into "Squeeze Me"

Swingin' into "Squeeze Me"

Honey why not keep it light

He made a name out of clowning around

But ultimately the smart set knew

He could play, he could write

 

You'd hear an echo of James P.

A giant out of New  Jersey

It was a fresh young century

Nobody knew from boogie-woogie

With Joplin barely gone

Piano men were boldly moving on

 

Throw on that piano roll

We'll visit the days of cakewalks

When tongues were briskly wagging 'bout how

Ragtime would surely cause us all to burn

Rhythm had taken quite a turn

In every parlor

People were feeling the heat

Of a syncopated beat

 

The teens and '20s, the war, the crash

Willie the Lion would make a splash

Holding court at a club on 140th Street

It was magic, magic

Music too full of joy to be denied

Boys and girls, they called it stride

 

God bless the granddads of it all

A noble gallery in living black and white

With every note they played

Your heart was happy and your world was bright

How I'd love to go back

Love to journey back

And hear the magic, magic

Rolling off the keys

In living black and white

ALLIGATOR

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "Valentine Stomp")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

Hey did you see the alligator hanging around

Hey did you see the alligator hanging around

'Cause I could feel him in the air

He could be almost anywhere

And he's a lethal weapon when he's hungry

 

I thought I heard the alligator shaking the ground

I thought I heard the alligator shaking the ground

He might be in the pepper tree

Or maybe right in back of me

I'll thank you not to make a single peep

 

Talkin' 'bout that alligator

He's the ruthless perpetrator

Of a thousand heinous crimes

I'm  telling you, it's deep

 

Don't you know that scaly green

Annihilator

Would eat the world up if he could

And at the end he would

Happily go back to sleep

 

The whole gang was having a shindig

When out of the blue, guess who crawls in

That reptile - wearing a big smile

First he inhales the giant punch bowl

Good thing he can't hold his liquor

 

Once again, a narrow escape

Our nerves are not in good shape

No use in laying out cold cuts at night

It's a terrible, terrible state of affairs

Messin' up our groove

Looks like that gator's here to stay

And we can't afford to move

 

"Eek there he is" cried the little mouse

"And there's lightning in his eyes"

He's got the strength, he's got the size

What's more, he's got the element of surprise

"Yikes there he goes," yelled the water snake

"Honey, get inside!

I heard a sound, I turned around

And I saw him open wide"

 

If he can't catch you

Somehow he makes do

Ask my neighbor Dee Dee

How he ate the car when she was out diggin' a movie

As for us we're sick

Of this horror flick

I should let him have it when

He drools on me again

 

There's

Power in that big jaw

Death in every sharp claw

When you hear those teeth snap

Think you're gonna feel your heart start playin' "La Bamba"

 

If you see his tail whip

Shake a leg and don't trip

Hurry, run like hell

When he rings that dinner bell

 

Hey did you see the alligator hanging around

Hey did you see the alligator hanging around

'Cause I can feel him in the air

He could be almost anywhere

And he's a lethal weapon when he's hungry

 

I thought I heard the alligator shaking the ground

I thought I heard the alligator shaking the ground

When he hasn't had his food

He gets into in a cranky mood

You know he's got a really filthy mouth

 

Talkin' 'bout that alligator

He's the ruthless perpetrator

Of a thousand ugly crimes

I'm telling you, it's deep

 

Don't you know that scaly green

Annihilator

Is definitely after us

We better grab a bus

Don't even stop to say

"Later, 'gator"

 


TIMELESS RAG

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "Viper's Drag")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

She walked in wearing a timeless rag

The band was playing the Viper's Drag

I looked at her and she looked through me

Lost in her own unreality

 

Although she slowly reconnected

Everyone at the bar suspected

Her backlit golden eyes reflected

The sight of endless night

 

Lately by ten she'd be in the bag, in the bag

Shaking her hips to the Viper's Drag

 

She tore the hem of her timeless rag

The band was wailing - the Viper's Drag

Blew through the atmosphere

She was gone, that was clear

She looked a lot like she did in school

I said so, she said "Now don't be cruel…don’t be cruel"

 

The place was jammed, the crowd unruly

Somebody swore to love her truly

She tried to make like she was duly impressed

She did her best

 

Those eyes grew dark as the midnight sky

As she waved bye-bye


GAL ON THE SIDE

Part I: THE GARDEN GATE

 

Based on Fats Waller's "African Ripples"

Music by Fats Waller/Lyrics by Lorraine Feather

 

How do you do you do a complete 360

When what you've got

Is really not a happy surprise

What're you gonna do when he

What're you gonna do when he

What're you gonna do when he lies

 

He made the promise I had

Waited for so terribly long

And whispered in my ear

"Sunday morning, it's a date

Meet me by the garden gate"

 

Now with it getting on to noon

I'm wondering what could be wrong

So tired of standing here

Worried that he'd be this late

Getting to the garden gate

 

Silly starling don't you dare

Say my darling doesn't care

Honeysuckle in the air

Isn't sweet as his kiss was

 

Will we soon kiss again or

Will I still be languishing here

Beside the garden gate

Dreaming of his tender words

Listening to these noisy birds

 

Sometimes the love you prize

Is only fools' gold

But still you keep on trying

To make it worth the price your heart has to pay

At the end of the day

 

Sometimes you go to sleep

Lonely and cold

Wake up in half an hour crying

Filled with a bitterness you know isn't right

At the end of the night

 

Little sparrow in the sun

Don't you dare go making fun

He said I'm his only one

Said today he would tell her

 

Twenty minutes more

That's all I'll wait

Here by the garden gate

 

Roses and columbine

Dahlias and passion vine

Where is that man of mine

 

How do you do you do a quick turnaround

When you can feel a pretty fantasy run aground

What're you gonna do when it

What're you gonna do when it

What're you gonna do when it dies

 

How do you do you make him know how it feels

To love a person who is letting you cool your heels

Fighting back your tears in the twilight

So tired of waiting

So tired of waiting

So tired of waiting by the garden gate


NEW YORK CITY DRAG

 

(based on Fats Waller's recording of "Clothes Line Ballet")

Music, Fats Waller/Lyrics, Lorraine Feather

 

Climbing the five long flights

Has grown to be a New York City drag

Why did you hightail it out of town?

Bitter December nights

Are definitely a New York City drag

Lights and music only drag me down

 

The last leaf drops from a maple tree

The saxophone in apartment three

Describes the word "lonely"

 

Your pocket change, your

Scribbled reminder

Tug at my heart again

New York is strange

A little unkinder

It wore your smile, back then

Back then when

 

We strolled the sidewalks

We sailed the Hudson

An unashamed cliché

More than the splendor of the skyline

You took my breath away

 

Sleeping without you

Dreaming about you

Wondering if you ever loved me

Is getting to be

A New York City drag

Deeply blue

From lack of you

I’m turning into

A