| While I was walkin' down the beach
|
| One bright and sunny day
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| I saw a great big wooden box
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| A-floatin' in the bay
|
| I pulled it in and opened it up
|
| And much to my surprise
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| Oh, I discovered a…
|
| Right before my eyes
|
| Oh, I discovered a…
|
| Right before my eyes
|
| I picked it up and ran to town
|
| As happy as a king
|
| I took it to a guy I knew
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| Who’d buy most anything
|
| But this is what he hollered at me
|
| As I walked in his shop
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| «Oh, get out of here with that…
|
| Before I call a cop»
|
| «Oh, get out of here with that…
|
| Before I call a cop»
|
| I turned around and got right out
|
| A-runnin' for my life
|
| And then I took it home with me
|
| To give it to my wife
|
| But this is what she hollered at me
|
| As I walked in the door
|
| «Oh, get out of here with that…
|
| And don’t come back no more»
|
| «Oh, get out of here with that…
|
| And don’t come back no more»
|
| I wandered all around the town
|
| Until I chanced to meet
|
| A hobo who was lookin' for
|
| A handout on the street
|
| He said he’d take most any old thing
|
| He was a desperate man
|
| But when I showed him the…
|
| He turned around and ran
|
| Oh, when I showed him the…
|
| He turned around and ran
|
| I wandered on for many years
|
| A victim of my fate
|
| Until one day I came upon
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| St Peter at the gate
|
| And when I tried to take it inside
|
| He told me where to go
|
| Get out of here with that…
|
| And take it down below
|
| Oh, get out of here with that…
|
| And take it down below
|
| The moral of this story is
|
| If you’re out on the beach
|
| And you should see a great big box
|
| And it’s within your reach
|
| Don’t ever stop and open it up
|
| That’s my advice to you
|
| 'Cause you’ll never get rid of the…
|
| No matter what you do
|
| Oh, you’ll never get rid of the…
|
| No matter what you do |