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Give It Back To The Indians

Ella Fitzgerald
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Old Peter Minuet had nothing to lose When he bought the Isle of Manhattan For twenty-six dollars and a bottle of booze And they threw in The Bronx and Staten Pete thought that he had the best of the bargin But the poor Red man just grinned And he grunted, "Ugh!" meaning 'okay' in his jargon For he knew poor Pete was skinned We've tried to run the city But the city ran away And now Peter Minuet We can't continue it Broadway's turning into Coney Champagne Charlie's drinking gin Old New York is new and phony Give it back to the Indians Two cents more to smoke a Lucky Dodging busses keep you thin Now New York is simply ducky Give it back to the Indians Take all the reds On the boxes made for soap Whites on Fifth Avenue Blues down in Wall Street, losing hope Big bargain today Chief, take it away Come, you busted city slickers Better take it on the chin Father Nick has lost his knickers Give it back to the Indians Take all the reds On the boxes made for soap Whites on Fifth Avenue Blues down in Wall Street, losing hope Big bargain today Chief, take it away Come, you busted city slickers Better take it on the chin Father Nick has lost his knickers Give it back to the Indians
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The Complete Ella Fitzgerald Song Books

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