Back to the old Fitzgerald,
Saturday night
Shine up my shoes,
And feel the old stage fright ---
The ropes and rigging,
The old stagehands,
And all the props
Of the sound effects man.
The creaking door,
The whistles and bells----
The gravel and the coconut shells.

I'm a lucky man,
Thank you, Lord.
Piano player
Give me the chord
Good evening, folks,
Glad to be here ---
But who is that face
In the mirror?

Easy come
Easy go
One more day and one more show.

I'm not a singer
It's just something I do
Thought I'd try it
For a year or two.
It was just an idea
There was no plan
I never meant to be
an old man.

Savoire faire
Savoire faire
Good to see you folks out there.

All the people
Who make a show,
Many more
Than you'd ever know.
Young producers
Making arabesques
At their office desks

Stand up straight
At the microphone
Imagine your mama
Listening at home.
Tell her a story
Not too deep
This is when she
Gets to sleep.

1 2 3 and 1 2 3

© Garrison Keillor 2002