Lyrics Michael Franks – Scatsville
Text:
Ran to Penn Station and mad my train
Immediately fell asleep until I heard
The conductor say: «Next stop
Where-it’s-Atsville»
Sunlight on the Hudson an amber glow
Like «Crepuscule with Nellie» dialed
Down low
When I reached my stop
The platform sign said: «Scatsville»
I said: «Wait!» and I turned around
But the doors where closed and the train
Was gone
And I though: «This ain’t
Where-I-hang-my-Hatsville»
And the question I asked of each passerby
Was met with the same singsong reply:
«Jack, you are now in Scatsville»
Like «Crepuscule with Nellie» dialed
Down low
When I reached my stop
The platform sign said: «Scatsville»
I said: «Wait!» and I turned around
But the doors where closed and the train
Was gone
And I though: «This ain’t
Where-I-hang-my-Hatsville»
And the question I asked of each passerby
Was met with the same singsong reply:
«Jack, you are now in Scatsville»
It’s the language of madmen
When you talk through your hat
My Eleventh Commandment’s:
«Thou Shalt Not Scat!»
Mr. Feather sighed and he seemed
Depressed
When I complained of scat on my
Blindfold Test
So how
How’d I get to Scatsville?
Live every saxophonist who play bop
It’s a little habit that hard to stop
One day you find yourself in Scatsville
With all the cats in Scatsville
