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Ii been playin root-five for most of the night |
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and most of the times, well, i don't really mind |
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but once in awhile i get the chance to *****ne |
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and look out, baby, when the stage is mine |
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the good lord knows i do the best i can |
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on the big, *****, butch, bull fiddle baby here i am |
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i got the black horsehair on my big bass bow |
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a little meaner than the sorrel that was on it before |
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sawin back and forth to meet the big bass drum |
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and pretty soon you can hear the rhythm section hum |
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i gotta buy an extra seat when i ride the airplane |
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or the womens and the childrens and the pilot complain |
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cuz it sure dont fit in the overhead bin |
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and leavin her behind is bassically a sin |
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yes, leavin her behind might save a little space |
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and i ain't no slouch on the electrical bass |
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but somethin kinda happens when the f-holes sing |
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with the snappin and the poppin of the flat wound strings |