Transcribed from vocals by Cab Calloway, recorded
July 17, 1939,
From Cab
Calloway and His Orchestra, 1939-1940, Chronological Classics 595.
My mother used to sing to me,
A haunting little melody;
Nobody knows where it came from,
Or where it was composed.
[Scatting]
"Utt da zay," sings the tailor,
As he fashions pretty clothes;
"Utt da zay," sings the tailor,
As he sews, sews, sews.
He's as busy as a bee,
Making lovely finery,
Things my baby loves to wear
When I take her to the fair.
"Utt da zay," sings the tailor;
all it means is "That's the way."
When I buy the things he made her,
says the tailor, "Utt da zay."
[Scatting]
Oh, do you dig, dig, dig?
Do you chop, chop, chop?
Are you hep to this jive that I'm
laying to you?
[Scatting]
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