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When the sun goes down, the tide goes out |
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The people gather 'round and they all begin to shout |
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"Hey, hey, Uncle Dud |
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It's a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud |
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It's a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud" |
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What a dance do they do, Lordy, how I'm tellin' you |
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They don't need no band |
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They keep time by clappin' their hand |
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Just as happy as a cow chewin' on a cud |
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When the people beat their feet on the Mississippi mud |
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Lordy, how they play it |
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Goodness, how they sway it |
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Uncle Joe, Uncle Jim |
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How they pound the mire with vigor and vim |
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Joy, that music thrills me, boy, it nearly kills me |
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What a show when they go |
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Say, they beat it up either fast or slow |
|
When the sun goes down, the tide goes out |
|
The people gather 'round and they all begin to shout |
|
"Hey, hey, Uncle Dud |
|
It's a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud |
|
It's a treat to beat your feet on the Mississippi mud" |
|
What a dance do they do, Lordy, how I'm tellin' you |
|
They don't need no band |
|
They keep time by clappin' their hand |
|
Just as happy as a cow chewin' on a cud |
|
When the people beat their feet on the Mississippi mud |
