Wacky Dust

They call it wacky dust It's from a hot cornet It gives your feet a feeling so breezy And, oh, it's so easy to get They call it wacky dust It brings a dancing jag And once it starts, then only a Sap'll refuse to Big Apple or Shag Oh, I don't know just why It gets you so high Putting a buzz in you heart You'll do a marathon You'll wanna go on Kickin' the ceilin' apart They call it wacky dust It's something you can't trust And in the end the rhythm will stop When it does, then you'll drop From happy wacky dust --- Wacky Dust - Ella Fitzgerald and Chick Webb & His Orchestra