Shake it %s harlem dance,
We stamp your foot by the piano bench,
With band playing hot filling every heart,
And like a steamboat honk.
The piano bench winds whisper low,
As turn it out we roam,
Through partners shaking we go,
Far from our childhood home.
Each chicago rag shares a story,
Of fever rising and more,
The parlor room holds their glory,
Now and forevermore.
Through bones breaking we find our way,
By ragtime parlor we stand,
Though harlem dance may stray,
We join heart to heart and h...