as rec by Anita O'Day w Orch dir by Lowell Martin Jan 18th 1945 Los Angeles
I've got a guy who says he loves me, so he says! And every night he's dreamin' of me, so he says! I'm gonna knock on his front door, I'm gonna find out what's the score!
How come you don't love me like you used to, how come? And you still my baby! Come come! You go runnin' round datin' And leave me waitin', Oh baby, how come, how come?
You don't kiss me like you used to, how come? Am I still your baby? Come come! You're a solid hit, skipper, But honey, I'm a hipper! Tell me how come?
Baby, I'm confessin' You have got me guessin'; Lately, I don't get nowhere, I get the air of Frigidaire!
How come you don't thrill me how you used to, how come? And you still my baby! Come come! Better stop your lyin', Alibi-in', And tell me baby, how come?
Baby, I'm confessin' You have got me guessin'; Lately, I don't get nowhere, I get the air of Frigidaire!
How come you don't thrill me how you used to, how come? And you still my baby! Come come! Better stop your lyin', Alibi-in', And tell me baby, how come? You better stop your lyin' and tell me how come!