Underneath the Harlem Moon - Rhiannon Giddens

Creole babies walk along with rhythm in their thighs

Rhythm in their hips and in their lips and in their eyes

Where the highbrows find the kind of love that satisfies?

Underneath the Harlem moon

We don’t pick no cotton;

picking cotton is taboo

We don’t live in cabins like the old folks used to do

Our cabin is a penthouse up on St. Nicholas Avenue

Underneath the Harlem moon

We just live for dancing

We’re never blue or forlorn

Ain’t no sin to laugh and grin

That’s why we schwaters were born

We shout, «Hallelujah!»

every time we’re feeling low

And every sheik is dressed up like a Georgia gigolo

White folks call it madness but I call it hi-de-ho

Underneath the Harlem moon

Once we wore bandanas, now we wear Perusian heads

Once we were barefoot now we’re sporting shoes and specs

Once we were republicans but now we’re democrats

Underneath the Harlem moon

We don’t pick no cotton;

picking cotton is taboo

All we pick is numbers and that include you white folks too

'Cause if we hit, we pay our rent on any avenue

Underneath the Harlem moon

We just thrive on dancing

Why be blue and forlorn

We just laugh and grin, ha!

Let the landlord in

That’s why house rent party’s were born

We also drink our gin up on Rita’s when we’re feeling low

Then we’re ready to step out and take charge on any so and so

Don’t stop for law, no traffic wind, we’re rearing to go

Underneath the Harlem moon

Underneath the Harlem moon