Down on the Mississippi River in a knockdo* dive
I met a trumpet playin' character and Man alive!
When he began to rip, he really played it from the hip
And when I asked about his name, they told me, "That's
'The Lip'."
Yip yip yip yip
No one plays high notes like The Lip.
He's got a tone that's reminiscent of a boy named Bix
He plays so high that only dogs can hear him, just for
Kicks.
And when I asked him does he read
He says, "I'll tell you, hon, I read a little bit but
Not enough to hurt me none."
Yip yip yip yip.
No one plays high notes like The Lip.
I said The Lip.
She must mean Ray Anthony, huh?
I said The Lip.
No, man, she means Harry James.
I said The Lip.
You mean Louis Prima.
I said The Lip.
Noo, LIP-er-ace.
Yip yip yip yip
No one plays high notes like The Lip.
I never heard a trumpet player play a note so high
And I had to coax a lot before The Lip would tell me
Why
Then he took out a little jar that's labeled 'High-note
Grease'
And he rubs a little every night on his mouthpiece
Yip yip yip yip
No one plays high notes like The Lip.
Listen here gal, are you kiddin' about all that 'high-
Note grease'?
No, man, I swear, he had ten in his valise.
Wha', you mean he goes to the drugstore and gets them
From the medecine shelf?
No, some cat's told me he makes it himself.
Yip yip yip yip
Tell us the secret of The Lip.
Well... you take a buketful of steam
And a dozen rooster eggs
And you mix 'em up gently with a bushel full of
Goldfish legs
And ya hang 'em on a sky hook in the midnight sun
Mmm and then you fry them until they're done.
Yip yip yip yip
That's the secret of The Lip