| I know a fool who blows a horn,
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| He comes from ‘way down South,
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| Oh yeah; |
| And you ain’t seen such blowin' since you been born,
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| Like when a trombone’s to his mouth.
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| He wails and moans, grunts and groans.
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| He can moan just like a cow;
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| And you ain’t seen such blowin'
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| Since you been born, ‘Cause he won’t show ‘em how.
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| Oh, Charley, won’t you play that thing, I mean the slide trombone
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| Make it talk, Make it sing,
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| I mean the slide trombone.
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| If Gabriel knew how you could blow,
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| He’d let you lead his band, I know.
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| Oh, Charley, won’t you play that thing,
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| I mean the slide trombone.
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| Oh, Charley, play that thing,
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| I mean the slide trombone.
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| Make it talk, Make it sing,
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| I mean the slide trombone.
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| Now you ain’t seen such movin' hips,
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| Like when the trombone’s to his lips.
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| Charley Green, play that thing,
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| I mean the slide trombone,
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| Oh, yeah, I mean the slide trombone. |