People call me a stick-in-the-mud
But it's certainly not true
Who can call me a stick-in-the-mud
when I polish my tonsils
and put on my dancing shoes?
When I get that feeling at the end of my toes
gotta go in a trance
I get an itchy feeling at the end of my nose
Gotta sing, gotta dance

Gotta sing, gotta dance
Though there may not be much time for romance
Gonna sing, gonna dance
I've gotta sing, I've gotta dance

When I hear that old train whistle blow
Or an ocean liner getting ready to go
Like a runaway horse I'm unable to stop
I can feel my feet go clippety clop
Unable to stop

Don't stop

(Gotta sing) I gotta sing
(gotta dance) I gotta dance
(though the neighbors say) oh yes
(I'm taking a chance) taking a chance
(Gotta sing) gotta sing, yes, sir
(Gotta dance) I've gotta dance
you know I have
(I've gotta sing) gotta sing
And d'you know what? (I've gotta dance)