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Description
Music has to set your soul swinging.
When someone puts on that old record,
You've got to feel the rhythm right down to your roots.
Your soul has to glow like a lantern on a dusky summer night,
Shooting golden sparks all through your body.
The soul of the music gets into you, and you can't help but move.
You can't help but move to the spirit of the melody.
The spirit of the rolling river,
The ebb and flow of tides on the bayou,
The shudder and shimmy of the second line,
And the rattle of carriages and trolleys on the cobblestone streets.
Of smoky rooms at midnight, and the struggle that dreams are made of.
The raw cry of a saxophone, and the brassy bray of trumpets.
The chilly laugh of piano keys, and the deep twang of a standup bass.
The spirit of the music gets into you, and fills you up from top to bottom.
It wakes up your soul, sets it to swinging,
And asks it to dance.

Description
Music has to set your soul swinging.
When someone puts on that old record,
You've got to feel the rhythm right down to your roots.
Your soul has to glow like a lantern on a dusky summer night,
Shooting golden sparks all through your body.
The soul of the music gets into you, and you can't help but move.
You can't help but move to the spirit of the melody.
The spirit of the rolling river,
The ebb and flow of tides on the bayou,
The shudder and shimmy of the second line,
And the rattle of carriages and trolleys on the cobblestone streets.
Of smoky rooms at midnight, and the struggle that dreams are made of.
The raw cry of a saxophone, and the brassy bray of trumpets.
The chilly laugh of piano keys, and the deep twang of a standup bass.
The spirit of the music gets into you, and fills you up from top to bottom.
It wakes up your soul, sets it to swinging,
And asks it to dance.