| Now it was a hot sticky morning
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| 'Round the Fourth of July
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| The breeze was standing still
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| I’m hanging out by myself
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| And I’m having a good time
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| With the folk inside my head
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| And you know, Lord,
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| how you did a lovely thing
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| See, times my head is lighter
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| than it’s ever been
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| And anyone who’s ever had
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| sweet potato pie
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| Don’t want pumpkin again,
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| no, they don’t want
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| 'Cause it don’t taste right, no Look-a-here city boy with your
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| silks and braided hair
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| Don’t you let nobody fool you
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| with no imitation nothing
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| Tell 'em, say, unh, unh, buddy,
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| I been there
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| Listen mama, when you
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| finally walk on in Don’t forget to bring along
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| your sweet potato tin
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| 'Cause when you serve him
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| a slice of your sweet potato
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| Sin, girl, he won’t want pumpkin again,
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| no, he won’t want
|
| Now I took a trip down to Sissy’s
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| She’s a friend of mine
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| She smiled and asked me in Well, she drew a box and a big,
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| fancy question mark
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| Said, «Brother, which one is you in?»
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| I told her, «Sister, don’t worry
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| 'bout the mule going blind
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| You just sit in the wagon and
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| hold on to the line
|
| 'Cause anyone who’s ever had
|
| sweet potato pie
|
| Don’t want pumpkin again,
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| really don’t want»
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| Now I saw the gates
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| gold and pearl
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| And I sat right down
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| in a dream of you, old friend
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| I’m thinking some milk and
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| honey and a pot of stew
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| Might fill that gap again
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| You know, I’m a thankful
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| witness to the things I’ve seen
|
| And times my head is lighter
|
| than it’s ever been
|
| And anyone who’s ever had
|
| sweet potato pie
|
| Really don’t want pumpkin again,
|
| no they won’t want
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| Would you give me some
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| sweet potato y’all |