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Şarkı Sözleri Near Barcelona, the peasant crooned The old traditional Spanish tunes The Neapolitan street song sighs You think of Italian skies Each nation has a creative vein Originating a native strain With folk songs plaintive and others gay In their own peculiar way American folk songs, I feel Have a much stronger appeal The real American folksong is a rag, a mental jag A rhythmic tonic for the chronic blues The critics called it a 'Joke Song' But now they've changed their tune and they like it, somehow For it's inoculated with a syncopated sort of meter Sweeter than a classic strain, boy you can't remain still and quiet For it's a riot The real American folksong is like a fountain of youth You taste and it elates you and then invigorates you The real American folksong, the masses coaxed on, is a rag The real American folksong is a rag, a mental jag A rhythmic tonic for the chronic blues The critics called it a 'Joke Song' But now they've changed their tune and they like it, somehow For it's inoculated with a syncopated sort of meter Sweeter than a classic strain, boy you can't remain still and quiet For it's a riot The real American folksong is like a fountain of youth You taste and it elates you and then invigorates you The real American folksong is a rag