| I was born on a farm out in Iowa
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| A flaming youth I was bound I would fly away
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| I packed my grip and I grabbed my saxophone
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| Can’t read notes but I play anything by ear
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| I made up tunes on the sounds that I used to hear
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| When I’d start to play
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| Folks used to say
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| «Sounds a little goofus to me»
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| Corn fed chords appeal to me
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| I like rustic harmony
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| Hold a note and change the key
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| Hey, well, that’s goofus
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| Not according to the rules
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| That you learn in music schools
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| But the folks just dance like fools
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| They sure go for goofus
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| Got a job but I just couldn’t keep it long
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| The leader said that I played all the music wrong
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| So I stepped out with an outfit of my own
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| Got together a new kind of orchestra
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| And we all played just the same goofus harmony
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| And I must admit
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| We made a hit
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| Goofus has been lucky for me
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| Got together a new kind of orchestra
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| And we all played just the same goofus harmony
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| And I must admit
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| We made a hit
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| Goofus has been lucky for me
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| Goofus has been lucky for me
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| Goofus has been lucky for me |