Stormy Weather

- And had my fortune told
- What'd she say?

She said you didn't love me
- All you wanted was my gold
- She was right.

- How'd she know?
- That ain't right

Oh, oh, oh, ain't right at all
Everybody wants some gold, baby.
Yes, you're takin' all my money
And goin' out havin' yourself a ball
Suffer, excess baggage, suffer.
- Just saw Chick Bailey.
- Chick Bailey from Chicago?

Yes. Been playin' in New Orleans.
Just stopped on his way through.
Comin' down Beale St. with a big party.
Says he wants to put Fats
for his new show at the Pickens Theater.

Fats, you's now on your way
to fame and fortune.

Boys, smarten up.
Let's put the best-lookin' one in front.

- That's me.
- All right.

So we can see the lighting effect
in the drum.

Hey, Ada, do I look better
with the hat on or with it off?

With or without, man,
you leave me cold.

- Bill!
- Yeah?

Those tables- push them together.
Here they come.

I wish somebody would
book me someplace.

- Hey, Chick Bailey.
- Hello, Ada.

Nice table right here for you.
Round of drinks,
and the best in the house.

Well, Ada, let's
hear that band of yours.

All right, Fats, go to work.
Well, all right then, boys,
latch on! Come on.

No one to talk with
All by myself
No one to walk with
But I might be on the shelf
Ain't misbehavin'
Savin' my love for you
For you, for you, for you