We’ve updated our Terms of Use to reflect our new entity name and address. You can review the changes here.
We’ve updated our Terms of Use. You can review the changes here.

Say it with Song

by Jacqueline Novikov

Le Jazz Hot 02:10
'Bout twenty years ago Way down in New Orleans A group of fellows found A new kind of music And they decided to call it jazz No other sound has What this music has Before they knew it It was whizzing round the world The world was ready For a blue kind of music And now they play it From Steamboat Springs to La Paz Oh baby, won't you play me Le Jazz Hot maybe And don't ever let it end I tell you, friend It's really something to hear I can't stay still When there's that rhythm near me Also, Baby Le Jazz Hot may be What's holding my soul together Don't know whether it's morning or night Only know it's sounding right So come on in and play me Le Jazz Hot maybe Cause I love my jazz hot I love le jazz hot
I want to be where the music comes from Where the clock stops, where it's now I want to be with the friends around me Who have found me, who show me how I want to sing to the early morning See the sunlight melt the snow And oh, I want to grow I want to wake to the living spirit Here inside me where it lies I want to listen till I can hear it Let it guide me and realize That I can go with the flow unending That is blending, that is real And oh, I want to feel I want to walk in the earthly garden Far from cities, far from fear I want to talk to the growing garden To the devas, to the deer And to be one with the river flowing Breezes blowing, sky above And oh, I want to love
Mama is a queen and papa is a king So I am a princess, I know it But court etiquette is a dull dreary thing I just hate it all, and I show it To sing on the stage, that's the one life for me My figure's just like Tetrazzini I know I'd win fame If I sang in Boheme That opera by Signor Puccini I've roulades and the trills That would send the cold chills Down the backs of all hearers of my vocal frills I long to be a prima donna donna I long to shine upon the stage I have the embonpoint to become a queen of song And my figure would look pretty as a page I want to be a screechy peachy cantatrice Like other songbirds that I see I hate society I hate propriety Art is calling for me I'm in the elite and men sigh at my feet Still I do not fancy my position I have not much use for the men that I meet I just burn with lyric ambition Those tenors so sweet, if they made love to me I'd be a success, that I do know And Melba I'd oust If I once sang in Faust That opera so charming by Gounod Girls would be on the brink Of hysterics, I think Even strong men would have to go out for a drink I long to be a prima donna I long to shine upon the stage With my avoir-du-pois and my tra la la la la I would be the chief sensation of the age I long to hear them shouting "Viva" to the diva Oh, very lovely that must be That's what I'm dying for That's what I'm sighing for Art is calling for me
The hills are alive with the sound of music With songs they have sung for a thousand years The hills fill my heart with the sound of music My heart wants to sing every song it hears My heart wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees My heart wants to sigh like the chime that flies from a church on a breeze To laugh like a brook as it trips and falls over stones on its way To sing through the night like a lark who is learning to pray I go to the hills when my heart is lonely I know I will hear what I've heard before My heart will be blessed with the sound of music And I'll sing once more
I Got Rhythm 02:25
Days can be sunny with never a sigh Don't need what money can buy Birds in the trees sing their dayful of song Why shouldn't we sing along? I'm chipper all the day, happy with my lot How do I get that way? Look at what I got I got rhythm I got music I got my man Who could ask for anything more? I got daisies In green pastures I got my man Who could ask for anything more? Old Man Trouble I don't mind him You won't find him 'Round my door I got starlight I got sweet dreams I got my man Who could ask for anything more? Who could ask for anything more?
Without the least excuse Or the slightest provocation, May I fondly introduce, For your mental delectation, The names that always give me brain concussion, The names of those composers known as Russian. There's Malichevsky, Rubinstein, Arensky, and Tschaikowsky, Sapelnikoff, Dimitrieff, Tcherepnin, Kryianowsky, Godovsky, Arteiboucheff, Moniuszko, Akimenko, Solovieff, Prokofieff, Tiomkin, Korestchenko. There's Glinka, Winkler, Bortniansky, Rebikoff, Ilyinsky, There's Medtner, Balakireff, Zolotareff, and Kvoschinsky. And Sokoloff and Kopiloff, Dukelsky, and Klenovsky, And Shostakovitch, Borodin, Glière, and Novikovski. There's Liadoff and Karganoff, Markievitch, Pantchenko And Dargomizski, Sherbatcheff, Scriabin, Vassilenko, Stravinsky, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Mussorgsky, and Gretchaninoff And Glazounoff and Caesar-Cui, Kalinikoff, Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky and Gretchnaninoff, Rumshinsky and Rachmaninoff, I really have to stop, the subject has been dwelt upon enough! I really have to stop because you all have undergone enough!
I gotta move, I gotta move That's what I tell my landlord, "Landlord, I gotta move" 'Cause there's a man, lives right upstairs from me Making a nightmare of some melody This is a situation not likely to improve He goes-a rumble, rumble, rumble on the left hand He goes-a tinkle, tinkle, tinkle on the right Rumble, rumble, rumble, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle Plays piano all night He goes-a rumble, rumble, rumble on the bottom He goes-a tinkle, tinkle, tinkle on the top Rumble, rumble, rumble, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle Positively won't stop I tried-a knock-a, knock-a, knocking on the ceiling I tried-a knock-a, knock-a, knocking on the wall He takes a breather.... No, he doesn't neither! Just when I figure that's all He goes-a rumble, rumble, rumble on the black keys He goes-a tinkle, tinkle, tinkle on the white Rumble, rumble, rumble, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle Plays piano all right, but he plays piano all night Instead of cooking himself a quiet kettle of tea up there Or maybe getting himself a girl and taking her out somewhere Instead of sitting around, reading the jokes Washing his socks, writing his folks Taking a pill, sleeping the night through What does he do? What does he do? He goes-a rumble, rumble, rumble Till the whole building crumbles Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, look at the wallpaper wrinkle Rumble, rumble, rumble, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle He could give insomnia to Rip Van Winkle With that rumble, rumble, rumble I've got a good right to grumble Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle I'm gonna raise quite a stomping Rumble, rumble, rumble, tinkle, tinkle, tinkle Please somebody break his lease I tried to hammer, hammer, hammer on the steam pipe I tried to holler, holler, holler down the hall I've got a feeling, he'll come through the ceiling Big foot, piano and all He goes-a rumble, rumble, rumble on the left hand He goes-a tinkle, tinkle, tinkle on the right Rumble, rumble, rumble, tinklie, tinkle, tinkle Rumbles 'till he gets it right Then he plays piano all night
When I have sung my songs to you I’ll sing no more T’would be a sacrilege to sing at another door We’ve worked so hard to hold our dreams just you and I I could not share them all again I’d rather die With just the thought that I had loved so well so true That I could never sing again That I could never never sing again except to you
Where does the time fly Simply too few hours in the day Oh, a Diva’s work is never done No relief, No time for fun Not if a Diva has to run An opera company Every small detail to supervise Every pretty face to scrutinize I plan beneath these eyes This opera company Why take on this arduous chore Sleepless nights I pace across my bedroom floor Why do I live completely for This opera company Cause it’s... Mine from the stalls To the portraits on the walls From the balconies and loges far and near It belongs all to me Every item that you see From the cellar to the crystal chandelier From the fluted marble grand facade To the elevated promenade From every toilet bowl To every leading role This place is mine I will sing I will glow I will never let it go I will hold it ever captive in my hand Like a god Like a queen I will enter any scene And control it like a kingdom I command And I pity any baritone Who attempts to tread this stage I own With no polite request He’s here at my behest Cause it’s all mine My curtain and my canopy My song My key My chart My grand romantic destiny From here my life will start I’ll be out on the stage Looking great And half my age Every chance I get I’ll get them on their feet I will burn I will scheme I will realize my dream For if I’m not in the light I’m incomplete And the best part I’m just coming to How they’ll all applaud for You know who I can’t believe I’m here And this is my career It must be seen like a torch We’ll engrave it on the porch Like an edict Like a beacon Like a sign This place is mine!
There were bells on the hill, But I never heard them ringing. No, I never heard them at all, 'Till there was you. There were birds in the sky, But I never saw them winging. No, I never saw them at all, 'Till there was you. And there was music, And there were wonderful roses, they tell me, In sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew. There was love, all around, But I never heard it singing. No, I never heard it at all, 'Til there was you. There was love, all around, But I never heard it singing. No, I never heard it at all, 'Til there was you.
Ask me how do I feel Ask me now that we’re cozy and clinging Well sir, all I can say, is if I were a bell I’d be ringing! From the moment we kissed tonight That’s the way I’ve just gotta behave Boy, if I were a lamp I’d light And If I were a banner I’d wave! Ask me how do I feel, little me with my quiet upbringing Well sir, all I can say is if gate I’d be swinging! And if I were a watch I’d start popping my springs! Or if I were a bell I’d go ding dong, ding dong ding! Ask me how do I feel from this chemistry lesson I’m learning. Well sir, all I can say is if I were a bridge I’d be burning! Yes, I knew my morale would crack From the wonderful way that you looked! Boy, if I were a duck I’d quack! Or if I were a goose I’d be cooked! Ask me how do I feel, ask me now that we’re fondly caressing Well, if I were a salad I know I’d be splashing my dressing Ask me how to describe this whole beautiful thing Well, if I were a bell I’d go ding dong, ding dong ding!
Daddy played piano Played it very well Music from those hands could Catch you like a spell He could make you love him 'Fore the tune was done You have your daddy's hands You are your daddy's son Daddy never knew That you were on your way He had other ladies And other tunes to play When he up and left me I just up and run Only thing in my head You were your daddy's son Couldn't hear no music Couldn't see no light Mama, she was frightened Crazy from the fright Tears without no comfort Screams without no sound Only darkness and pain The anger and pain The blood and the pain! I buried my heart in the ground When I buried you in the ground Daddy played piano Bet he's playin' still Mama can't forget him Don't suppose I will God wants no excuses I have only one You had your daddy's hands Forgive me You were your daddy's son
He never speaks his passions He never speaks his views Whereas other men speak volumes The man I love is mute In truth, I can't recall Being wooed with words at all Even now He plays the violin He tucks it right under his chin And he bows, oh he bows For he knows, yes he knows That it's heigh, heigh, heigh, diddle diddle Twixt my heart, Tom and his fiddle My strings are unstrung Heigh, heigh, heigh, heigh I am undone I hear his violin And I get that feeling within And I sigh, oh I sigh He draws near, very near And it's heigh, heigh, heigh, diddle diddle And goodbye to the fiddle! My strings are unstrung Heigh, heigh, heigh, heigh I'm always undone When Heaven calls to me Sing me no sad elegy Say I died, loving bride Loving wife, loving life For it was heigh, heigh, heigh diddle diddle Twixt my heart, Tom and his fiddle And ever 'twill be! Heigh, heigh, heigh, heigh Through eternity!
Fascinating Rhythm, you've got me on the go! Fascinating Rhythm, I'm all a-quiver What a mess you're making! The neighbors want to know Why I'm always shaking Just like a flivver Each morning I get up with the sun To find at night no work has been done I know that once it didn't matter But now you're doing wrong When you start to patter I'm so unhappy Won't you take a day off? Decide to run along Somewhere far away off And make it snappy! Oh, how I long to be The man I used to be! Fascinating rhythm Oh, won't you stop picking on me
Before I deliver my seventh encore There's something I'd like to make clear They say I've brought pleasure to millions or more They say that my singing half won the last war When I sang to the troops in the rear. I'm a Dame with a name At the peak of my fame, I'm known as the Empress of Song. The critics 'bravo' - And the critics should know - But I can not help feeling they're wrong. I'm lauded, applauded, recorded - but hist'! I've a musical flaw that they seemed to have missed I'm tone deaf; Music means nothing to me. It's only the way my accompanist plays That makes it appear I'm in key. Stone, tone deaf; Can't tell a key from a clef. I stand by the pianist watching her face, For she's told me to start when it comes to the place Where she'll give me a whacking great - in the bass, Because I'm tone deaf I'm tone deaf Never could understand pitch Some people you know Can sing 'soh-la-tee-do' And claim they can tell which is which! Stone, tone deaf! Can't tell a B from an F. A conductor once said "now I don't want to carp, But if that's a B natural played on the harp Then either B flat, dear, or bloody B sharp!" But then I'm tone deaf! My technique is perfect, And likewise my larynx! Great artists once sculpted A bust of my pharynx! While lovers of music all praise with conviction My phrasing, my timbre, perfection of diction; My trilling made swoon But I just can't remember the tune I'm tone deaf. But in most modern works for the voice The note that I hit doesn't matter a bit, So it's purely a personal choice. Stone, tone deaf! Musically D-E-A-F. Perhaps Lincoln Center's just not worth the stress, And Carnegie Hall may not book me for less But I'll always get work from the dear PBS Well I'm tone deaf! Yes, I'm tone deaf!
As a child I went wild when a band played, How I ran to the man when his hand swayed Clarinets were my pets, and a slide trombone I thought was simply divine But today when they play I could hiss them, Ev’ry bar is a jar to my system But there’s one musical instrument that I call mine I love a piano, I love a piano I love to hear somebody play Upon a piano, a grand piano It simply carries me away I know a fine way to treat a Steinway I love to run my fingers o’er the keys, the ivories And with the pedal I love to meddle Not only music from Broadway I’m so delighted if I’m invited To hear that long haired genius play So you can keep your fiddle and your bow Give me a p-i-a-n-o, oh, oh I love to stop right beside an upright Or a high toned baby grand When a green Tetrazzine starts to warble, I grow cold as an old piece of marble I allude to the crude little party singer who don’t know when to pause At her best I detest the soprano, But I run to the one at the piano I always love the accomp’niment and that’s because I love a piano...


released July 15, 2022




Jacqueline Novikov Boston, Massachusetts

Soprano Jacqueline Novikov, founder of Forma Music, is dedicated to entertaining and educating audiences through classical vocal music. She uses music's powerful language to express life's humorous, serious, mundane and sacred truths. Jacqueline holds a B.M. from the Eastman School of Music in Rochester, NY and a M.M. from Manhattan School of Music in New York City. ... more

contact / help

Contact Jacqueline Novikov

Streaming and
Download help

Shipping and returns

Redeem code

Report this album or account

If you like Jacqueline Novikov, you may also like: