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No. 16 - Song - Spangle and Girls

MIDI File

Spangle: Back in the golden days of youth
On a farm in Ioway,
Happiest days of all were they,
If you don't care what you say.
Nothing to do but milk the cows,
And feed the gentle stock,
And work like a Turk from early morn
Till nearly eight o'clock.
The only joy of the country boy
To fill his soul with glee,
On a frosty night, when the moon shines bright,
Away to the husking bee.
Go to the East, go to the West,
Go to the one that you love best;
If she's not here to take your part,
Choose an oth'r with all your heart.
Down on this carpet you must kneel
As sure's the grass grows in the field,
Salute your bride and kiss her sweet,
And then you rise upon your feet.
Girls: Go to the East, go to the West,
Go to the one that you love best;
If she's not here to take your part,
Choose an oth'r with all your heart.
Down on this carpet you must kneel
As sure's the grass grows in the field,
Salute your bride and kiss her sweet,
And then you rise upon your feet.
Spangle: I long and sigh for the days gone by,
I pine for the rustic charm
Girls: Of the dear old games,
Of the queer old games
We played down on the farm.
   
Spangle: Oft' I recall the girl I loved
In the days of long ago.
Muscular maid of six-feet-two,
With a cheek of rosy glow,
I would escort my Genevieve
To many a husking bee.
And she at the call of "ladies' choice"
Would always grab for me.
With a sudden swoop and a merry whoop,
She'd mop me 'round the floor,
And though I'd resist, I was always kissed;
Sing hey, for the days of yore!
I think I hear the rain-crow say,
I think I hear the rain-crow say,
I think I hear the rain-crow say,
"It ain't a goin' to rain no more."
Swing your true love, swing her back again,
Swing your true love, swing her back again,
Swing your true love, swing her back again,
It ain't a-goin' to rain no more.
Girls: I think I hear the rain-crow say,
I think I hear the rain-crow say,
I think I hear the rain-crow say,
"It ain't a goin' to rain no more."
Swing your true love, swing her back again,
Swing your true love, swing her back again,
Swing your true love, swing her back again,
It ain't a-goin' to rain no more."
   
Spangle: Best of the pleasures that we knew,
In the days that now have fled,
Snuggled so warm and holding hands
In the big old-time bob-sled.
Calico damsels just as proud
As any queen in silk,
And we didn't take them out to dine,
They lived on mush and milk.
But the noisy fun when the work was done,
And the cider flowing free,
With a "balance all" at the fiddler's call,
We'd swing in the jamboree.

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