| I went to the gypsy for to get my hambone done
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| The gypsy said, «Furry, 'clare, you sure need one.»
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| Now, must I holler, or must I shake 'em on down
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| Babe, I’m so tired of holl’in', Lord, I b’lieve I shake 'em on down
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| If I just could holler like the Bob Lee, Jr. blow
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| I call my babe off the killin' floor
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| Cryin', must I holler, or must I shake 'em on down
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| Oh, so tire', darlin', oh, I b’lieve I shake 'em on down
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| I don’t drink no whiskey, wine, neither gin
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| If you see me sober, make me drunk again
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| I’m gettin' so tire', darlin', and I b’lieve I’ll shake 'em on down
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| I woke up this mornin', looked at the risin' sun
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| Train don’t hurry gonna be some walkin' done
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| Baby, must I holler, or must I shake 'em on down
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| Oh, so tire', darlin', babe, I b’lieve I’ll shake 'em on down
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| Babe, I ain’t good-lookin' and it ain’t the clothes I wear
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| But good kind treatment takes me everywhere
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| Baby, must I holler
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| Oh, so tired of holl’in', baby, and I b’lieve I shake 'em on down
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| Baby, you know you don’t want me, you ought to let me know
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| Poor boy, you done driv' me away from my home
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| I’m so tired of holl’in', and I b’lieve I’ll shake 'em on down
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| Ohh, so tire', darlin', b’lieve I’ll shake 'em on down |