Uncle Sam

Uncle Sam was a dreary old man
He worked in the bank all day
He counted the millions for everyone else
And nineteen pounds ten
Was his take-home pay
But when he got home
And the curtains were drawn
He'd kick off his shoes
And pick up his horn

He'd play that thing
Give it swing
Being and bopping like the Fourth of July

Then one day he packed his bags
And up and left the bank
He boarded a liner for Carolina
Which in mid-Atlantic sank
So he swam to an island
And crawled up the sand
And when the natives got restless
He'd strike up the band

He'd play that thing
Give it swing
Being and bopping like the Fourth of July

Uncle Sam grew sad at heart
He knew he'd be there forever
But he'd stay alive, cos he was smart
And the natives weren't very clever
And when ships came into sight
The Morse code he'd play
But he never got far
Cos he got carried away

[a few bars of Morse on the piano]

He'd play that thing
Give it swing
Being and bopping like the Fourth of July

Uncle Sam grew old and frail
And there on the shore he died
The native chiefs buried him deep
With his trumpet by his side
And still to this day
When the moon's in the trees
An eerie sound
Is heard on the breeze

He'd play that thing
Give it swing
Being and bopping like the Fourth of July

(Hit me, Jimmy!)