| Ungr, now I don’t move too fast
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| And my talk is kind o' slow
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| I’m from the swamps and I like to stomp
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| To the Cotton-Eyed-Joe
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| Now I work hard all week
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| When it comes Saturday night
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| I go downtown and cruise around
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| In my four wheel drive that’s right
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| With mud flaps, ungr
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| Sometimes I like to slow dance
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| And I hold my woman tight
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| 'Cause you can’t get nothing done
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| If you stand apart and sling your arms and all
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| That’s right
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| Now I see a lot of people
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| And they’re thinking they’re where it’s at
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| But you know that times are a-changing
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| When soul brothers wear cowboy hats
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| That’s right, ha ha
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| But there’s still a lot of cowboys
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| Who don’t mind biting the dust
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| They ride Brahman-bulls and bucking broncs
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| And they don’t want no fuss
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| But now they’re everywhere you look
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| And though it may sound strange
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| They ride Coupe De Villes done too cutter Bill’s
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| And overnight they can ride the ranche
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| I heard that
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| Ha ha ha, alright
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| I was down in the swamps one night
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| Singing to the moon
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| When an alligator crawled up to me and said
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| «Hey, I like your tune»
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| He started to twist and shake his tail
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| Thought he was having a fit
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| And my fingers was starting to hurt like hell
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| But he wouldn’t let me quit
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| He said, «Keep on, ha ha»
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| Yeah but it’s a long time since I wanted to dance
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| Would you please give me some more
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| A one two three four you can’t alligator
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| Till you get down on the floor that’s right
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| That’s right |