| In Dixieland
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| There’s a musical man
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| He has a good time just making folks happy
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| This musical man
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| Is a one-man band
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| Folks have to love him for makin' 'em glad
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| He doesn’t play melodies, just plays blue harmonies
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| Just like nobody ever had
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| He just plays chords
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| (He just plays chords)
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| That make you feel grand
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| (That make you feel grand)
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| They call him Sam
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| (Sam)
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| The old accordion man
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| His dreamy chords remind you of heaven
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| (Remind you of heaven)
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| And they’re real chords, according to Dixieland
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| In the evening, by the moonlight, when the sun is down
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| How those lovers, there’ll be lovers, love to hang around
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| He plays those chords
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| (He plays those chords)
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| Like nobody can
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| (Like nobody can)
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| They call him Sam
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| (Sam)
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| The old accordion man
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| Old chords, new chords, funny old blue chords
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| Morning, night and noon
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| Say he’s got chords, nothing but hot chords, never out of tune
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| In the evening, by the moonlight, when the sun is down
|
| How those lovers, there’ll be lovers, love to hang around
|
| He plays those chords
|
| (He plays those chords)
|
| Like nobody can
|
| (Like nobody can)
|
| They call him Sam
|
| Sam
|
| Sam
|
| The old accordion man |