|
Old Deacon Splivin, his flock was givin' the way of livin' right, yes |
|
Said he, "No wingin', no ragtime singin', tonight", yes |
|
Up jumped Aunt Hagar and shouted out with all her might |
|
All her might |
|
She said, "Oh, tain't no use to preachin' |
|
Oh, tain't no use to teachin', each modulation of syncopation |
|
Just tells my feet to dance and I can't refuse |
|
When I hear the melody they call the blues, those ever lovin' blues |
|
Just hear Aunt Hagar's children harmonizin' to that old mournful tune |
|
It's a-like choir from on high broke loose, amen |
|
If the Devil brought it, the good Lord sent it right down to me |
|
Let the congregation join while I sing those lovin' Aunt Hagar's blues |
