| Poverty stricken but still I’m a-stickin' to the things I know to be facts
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| One day it’s feathers and the next day chicken while I’m pickin' my yakety axe
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| Ev’rybody says that I never will get far, keepin' out of work by pickin' this
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| guitar
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| Livin' on a shoestring, puttin' off things like a shave and a haircut
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| Money don’t matter as long as I scatter a little bit of happiness around
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| If people keep a grinnin' I figure I’m a winnin' my good old yakety sound
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| City folks go around turnin' up their noses and countin' their greenbacks and
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| smellin' their roses
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| But I wouldn’t trade my yakety axe, even for a T-bone
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| I’m confessin' I never took a lesson, all my notes are a matter of guessin'
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| Hopin' they’ll come out in some kinda manner that’ll make the yakety sound
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| So if you’re in the mood and your feet start tappin'
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| And you feel laid back and your hands start clappin'
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| Then I’ll have done what I wanted to from way back
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| You’re diggin' my yakety axe |