THE COLORED BAND

Wen de colo'ed ban’ comes ma'chin’ down de street,

Do n't you people stan’ daih starin’; lif yo’ feet!

Ai n't dey playin’? Hip, hooray!

Stir yo’ stumps an’ cleah de way,

Fu’ de music dat dey mekin’ can n't be beat.

Oh, de major man's a-swingin’ of his stick,

An’ de pickaninnies crowdin’ roun’ him thick;

In his go'geous uniform,

He‘ s de lightnin’ of de sto'm,

An’ de little clouds erroun’ look mighty slick.

You kin hyeah a fine perfo'mance w'en de white ban's serenade,

An’ dey play dey high-toned music mighty sweet,

But hit‘ s Sousa played in ragtime, an’ hit‘ s Rastus on Parade,

Wen de colo'ed ban’ comes ma'chin’ down de street.

Wen de colo'ed ban’ comes ma'chin’ down de street

You kin hyeah de ladies all erroun’ repeat:

“Ai n't dey handsome? Ai n't dey gran’?

Ai n't dey splendid? Goodness, lan’!

Wy dey's pu'fect f'om dey fo'heads to dey feet!”

An’ sich steppin’ to de music down de line,

‘ T ai n't de music by itself dat meks it fine,

Hit's de walkin’, step by step,

An’ de keepin’ time wid “Hep,”

Dat it mek a common ditty soun’ divine.

Oh, de white ban’ play hits music, an’ hit‘ s mighty good to hyeah,

An’ it sometimes leaves a ticklin’ in yo’ feet;

But de hea't goes into bus'ness fu’ to he'p erlong de eah,

Wen de colo'ed ban’ goes ma'chin’ down de street.