Thar' is gwine to be a festival this evenin' And a gatherin' of color mighty rare Thar'll be noted individuals of prominent distinctiveness To permeate the colored atmosphere; Sunny Africa's Four Hundred's gwine to be thar To do honor to my lovely fiancee, Thar will be a grand ovation of especial ostentation When the parson gives the dusky bride a way!
cho: My gal is a high born lady She's black but not too shady Feathered like a peacock, just as gay, She is not colored, she was born that way, I'm proud of my black Venus, No coon can come between us 'Long the line they can't out shine this high born gal of mine.
When the preacher man propounds the vital question, "Does ye' take the gal' for better or for wuss?" I will feel as if my soul had left my body, gone to glory, And I know my heart will make an awful fuss, I anticipates a very funny feelin' Nigger's eyeball, like a diamond sure to shine, But I'll bask in honeyed clover, when the ceremony's over, And I press the ruby lips of baby mine)