| Down on the farm we had a pig, J. Edgar was his name
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| He’d eat up all our victuals and start back up again
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| Just like them vacuum cleaners they sell down in the lane
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| Well, that’s how J. Edgar Hoover got his name
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| Now, momma baked a cherry pie and set it out to cool
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| So we’d have something good to eat when we got home from school
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| J. Edgar climbed up on the porch and ate up all that pie
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| When we got home that mornin' we heard our mamma cry
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| J. Edgar, J. Edgar, just look what you’ve done
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| You ate up the cherry pie that was for everyone
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| We made it through the dusters, and the hoppers too
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| But God help us, J. Edgar, 'cause nothin’s safe from you
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| We had an extra man named Bob he wouldn’t work a lick
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| He drank bad moonshine likker, and it always made him sick
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| We rode to church on Sunday and stayed a while in town
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| When we reached home at suppertime, poor Bob could not be found
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| He wasn’t in the parlor, and he wasn’t in the lane
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| Drinking in the pantry or sleepin' in the hay
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| His hat was in the pigpen, that he always wore
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| Poor Bob won’t be drinking moonshine likker anymore
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| J. Edgar, J. Edgar it just don’t seem fair
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| You ate Bob our hired hand while we were at prayer
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| Let’s say a prayer for old Bob, and our country too
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| God help us J. Edgar, nobody’s safe from you |