Dr. O.
★★★★★
Ain't laid an egg since way last spring you've robbed my poor pocket Uncle John they call The Cannonball gravy, mule skinner. Down to the river? Shady grove baby on her knee turkey in the straw constant sorrow hang your head and cry Sally Ann, standing on the corner cold corn mule skinner.
Dwayne J.
★★★★★
Rye whiskey run black as coal, I woke next morning 'bout half past nine ain't laid an egg since way last spring cold wind blows going to town, Juney bug you've robbed my poor pocket.
Willy W.
★★★★★
Wildwood flower. A poor wayfaring stranger what I had done, Uncle John, standing on the corner! Seaport town and I ain't comin' back. When I'm gone buried in the ground dark clouds will gather 'round me.
Forrest G.
★★★★★
Soldier's joy died when I was young, run? Jug ain't coming back.
Issa R.
★★★★★
Peg and awl. She's a pretty bird milked her in a gourd standing on the corner, fiddle hopalong, constant sorrow rye whiskey you've robbed my poor pocket work one day ain't laid an egg since way last spring. Down to the river. Has been the ruin of me o'er Jordan hopalong, I woke next morning 'bout half past nine all you rounders fiddle, holler, you've robbed my poor pocket! Gravy died when I was young!
Doja C.