I'm stepping out, my dear,To breathe an atmosphere
That simply reeks of class
And I trust
That you'll excuse my dust
When I step on the gas
Irving "Oh, How I Hate to Get Up In the Morning" Berlin never sounded more debonair than this partnership with the epitome of Depression-era escapism, Fred Astaire, for this ode to a fancy invitation.
This song positively dances, from climbing up the scale in the intro ("your presence / requested / this evening / it's formal") to skipping in the bridge, quoted above. This white tie and tails were tailor-made for Astaire. Listen here for a (kinda scratchy) YouTube clip.
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