You’re The Cure For What Ails Me – Cab Calloway And His Orchestra

I was once a delicate child
Watched the other kids run wild
While they played with guns and ropes
My only toys were stethoscopes
I was a chronic, “Now how’ve you been?”
Then like a tonic, you blew in
You’re the cure for what ails me, and you do me good!

Down with an apple every day
Down with the ultraviolet ray
You’re the cure for what ails me, and you do me good!

You can go starve a fever
You can feed a cold
But I don’t fear fever and I can’t get cold
You’re my pick-up kabish
You’re my Arrowhead Springs
You’re my Battle Creek, Mich!

I was a weakie, meekie lamb
Now I can shoulder Boulder Dam
Your smile never fails me, hi-ho, lady, knock on wood
You’re the cure for what ails me, and you do me good!