| Old Deacon Splivin, his flock was givin'
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| A way of livin' right
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| Said he, «No wingin', no ragtime singin' tonight.»
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| Up jumped Aunt Hagar, and shouted out with all her might:
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| Oh, 'tain't no use to preachin'
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| Oh, 'tain't no use to teachin';
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| Each modulation of syncopation
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| Just tells my feet to dance and I can’t refuse
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| When I hear the melody they call the blues
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| Those ever-lovin' blues!
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| Just hear Aunt Hagar’s chillun harmonizin' to that old mournful tune!
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| It’s like choir from on high broke loose!
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| If the devil brought it, the good Lord sent it right down to me
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| Let the congregation join while I sing those lovin' Aunt Hagar’s Blues!
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| Just hear Aunt Hagar’s chillun harmonizin' to that old mournful tune!
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| It’s like choir from on high broke loose!
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| If the devil brought it, the good Lord sent it right down to me
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| Let the congregation join while I sing those lovin' Aunt Hagar’s Blues! |