Harold Arlen

C/e
That old black magic has weaved its spell
                              Dm/f
That old black magic that you weave  so well
                          
Those icy fingers  up and down  my spine
                                 C
Same  old  witchcraft  when your eyes meet mine

Same old tingle that I feel inside
                       F
And then that elevator starts its ride

    F6                 Fm6                 
And down and down   I  go
C/e           D9
Round    and  round I go
Dm7        Fm6             C