"Oh, mos' feet and it hang, can't you see?" I groan.
She says, 'Oh, wha' 'ts arright." I said, "Jesus, don't take it at all."
She's a past-cold beauty, but she can't light a cannonball.
Now, down by the river she's a-hop on her knees,
and I holler to my baby, yelling, "Please, please, please!"
Oh, then I hit her and doubt my chase at all.
Now, no hoax. Let's go! But it's that pure soul, and it's off the ball.
Now, honey, I'm makin' a hot to road.
Now I'm happy to leaving, but it's a heavy load.
I said, "Ah, my babe. She don't meet me no half at all."
Dress it up. Best to pick up, bub: better have it all.
Well, hot dog, goody me. Settle on a trail
Down apart my knees I can't find my kerry. Find a nail!
She old top these... oh, better hold mine up.
Please, let's go, 'n' I hope it don't interrupt.
I hope it come' easy; I hope it comes hard;
I hope I sit me down yon' sit a little a chicken yard.
Open up, ol' Henry. Get that boy on home.
Tell Bess momma, he's up 'n' gone too long.