Just take a look at Harlem after sundown
Any time you choose;
It's hard to find the people feeling run-down;
There's no time for blues

If you don't know just what to really do
Just take a walk along the avenue;
You'll hear the sounds come a-floatin' through
Along about midnight

They close the windows and they dim the light
To hide their doings from a stranger's sight;
Everything is going right
'Long about midnight

Pianos tinkle, and the couples sway
Taking the pleasures they find
They don't care how they live by day
Why not leave trouble behind?

They're not pretending like the hoy-falloy;
They really mean it; it's the real McCoy
They turn an ounce of booze into a pound of joy
'Long about midnight!