You must have been a beautiful baby, / 'Cos baby just look at you now.

Days of wine and roses laugh and run away, / Like a child at play.

We're drinking my friend, To the end of a brief episode, Make it one for my baby, And one more for the road

That old black magic has me in its spell, That old black magic that you weave so well; Icy fingers up and down my spine, The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.

Johnny felt his greatest gift as a songwriter was the ability to catch the mood of a tune.

That old black magic has me in its spell.