| Until The Real Thing Comes Along | 
| — words and music by Mann Holiner, Alberta Nichols, Sammy Cahn, | 
| Saul Chaplin and L. E. Freeman | 
| — as recorded in New York, August 1, 1936, by Fats Waller & his Rhythm | 
| I’d work for you, I’d even slave for you | 
| I’d be a beggar or a knave for you (whatever that is) | 
| And if that isn’t love, it’ll have to do Until the real thing comes along | 
| I’d gladly move the earth for you | 
| To prove my love, dear, and its worth for you | 
| If that isn’t love, it will have to do (gotta do) | 
| Until the real thing comes along | 
| With all the words, dear, at my command | 
| I just can’t make you understand | 
| I’ll always love you, darling, come what may | 
| My heart is yours, what more can I say? | 
| (You want me to rob a bank? Well I won’t do it) | 
| I’d sigh for you, yes, I’d even cry for you, yes | 
| I’d tear the stars down from the skies for you | 
| If that isn’t love, well skip it, it’ll have to do Until the real thing comes along | 
| Listen baby | 
| I’d even sigh for you, I’m 'bout ready to cry for you | 
| I’d tear the stars down from the skies for you | 
| If that isn’t love, it’ll have to do, baby, yes | 
| Until the real thing comes along | 
| (Here's the real thing, baby) |