|
Along about sun-up every day |
|
I grab my bucket and I'm on my way |
|
I go down the road a runnin' and a kickin' |
|
I'm headed for the patch to do some blackberry pickin' |
|
I fill my bucket right to the top |
|
It makes my lips go flippety-flop |
|
I hear a little voice and it sounds so sad |
|
It said, ?Don't pick me now 'cause I ain't ripe, dad? |
|
Blackberry boogie, blackberry boogie |
|
I'm brought back like a flip |
|
When it's blackberry pickin' time |
|
I went to see my gal, I set my bucket down |
|
She said, ?Hi there baby, are you goin' to town?? |
|
I said, ?Uh-uh honey, I'm a goin' where they scratch |
|
I'll meet you in a minute in the blackberry patch? |
|
She grabs her bucket and she jumps and squeals |
|
I'm headin' for the bushes and she's hot on my heels |
|
I start pickin' on one end, she picks on the other |
|
We meet in the middle and she yells, ?Oh, brother? |
|
Blackberry boogie, blackberry boogie |
|
Oh, I love that girl |
|
When I meet her in the middle of the patch |
|
We go through the briars walkin' hand in hand |
|
Pickin' blackberries just to beat the band |
|
I grab her for a kiss, she said, ?Turn me loose |
|
Your lips are all blue from that blackberry juice? |
|
I hug her once and said, ?Don't be coy |
|
You know I'm your blackberry pickin' boy? |
|
I kissed her then and she let out a sigh |
|
And said, ?Let's go to my house and bake a pie? |
|
Blackberry boogie, blackberry boogie |
|
I'll be back little gal |
|
When it's blackberry pickin' time |
