  De summer night hit’s lubly when you wa’kin wid yo’ gal An’ she sweetah dan de honey ub de bee; An’ she ’low dat you kyant kiss huh, kase hit ain’ rash-nal, At de grapevine hangin’ by de holly tree. But de summer night gits lublier, when swingin’ ’side dat gal, An’ yo’ ahm a’mos’ destracted ’roun’ huh waise; Kase she look inter yo’ face, an’ say, “Ain’ you pus-nal?” When you go down on huh mouf an’ teck uh tas’e. Da’s no swing like de grapevine! hit’s sut’ny de bes’, Kase you hab ter set ornpropper all de time, You swing so close togedda dat you kine er mus’ caress, Fuh you al’ays got dat black gal on yo’ mine. BLACK CREEK, BELOW THE FALLS. |
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