| Serious blue eyes, so pale and so shy
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| Look closer 'cause she’s got that look in her eye
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| Red hair that sails on a soft southern breeze
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| Fingers that fly on accordion keys
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| You ain’t seen nothin', 'till you’ve seen my cajun girl
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| She’s really somethin', my sweet singing cajun girl
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| Cook cajun, speak creole, and lay on the spice
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| Her fancy so free on these Saturday nights
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| She sings and she plays at the parish hall dance
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| Big city chanteuses just don’t stand a chance
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| You ain’t seen nothin', 'till you’ve seen my cajun girl
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| She’s really somethin', my sweet singing cajun girl
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| Might find me a dream, just West of New Orleans
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| If you pole up the bayou St. John
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| The way twin fiddles play
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| And she squeezes her box until dawn
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| All night they carry on
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| Tell long leg Lucille I must send my regrets
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| It’s nothin' she’s done, it’s just someone I met
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| With innocent heart, true talent so rare
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| She bloom on the bayou, this flower so fair
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| You ain’t seen nothin', 'till you’ve seen my cajun girl
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| She’s really somethin', my sweet singing cajun girl
|
| You ain’t seen nothin', 'till you’ve seen my cajun girl
|
| Might find me a dream, just West of New Orleans
|
| If you pole up the bayou St. John
|
| The way twin fiddles play
|
| And she squeezes her box until dawn
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| All night they carry on |