You kin talk about yer anthems An’ yer arias an’ sich, An’ yer modern choir-singin’ That you think so awful rich;
But you orter heerd us youngsters In the times now far away, A-singin’ o’ the ol’ tunes In the ol’ - fashioned way.
There was some of us sung treble An’ a few of us growled bass, An’ the tide o’ song flowed smoothly With its‘ comp'niment o’ grace;
There was spirit in that music, An’ a kind o’ solemn sway, A-singin’ o’ the ol’ tunes In the ol’ - fashioned way.
I remember oft o’ standin’ In my homespun pantaloons — On my face the bronze an’ freckles O’ the suns o’ youthful Junes —
Thinkin’ that no mortal minstrel Ever chanted sich a lay As the ol’ tunes we was singin’ In the ol’ - fashioned way.
The boys‘ ud always lead us, An’ the girls‘ ud all chime in Till the sweetness o’ the singin’ Robbed the list'nin’ soul o’ sin;
An’ I used to tell the parson ‘ T was as good to sing as pray, When the people sung the ol’ tunes In the ol’ - fashioned way.
How I long ag'in to hear‘ em Pourin’ forth from soul to soul, With the treble high an’ meller, An’ the bass's mighty roll;
But the times is very diff'rent, An’ the music heerd to-day Ai n't the singin’ o’ the ol’ tunes In the ol’ - fashioned way.
Little screechin’ by a woman, Little squawkin’ by a man, Then the organ's twiddle-twaddle, Jest the empty space to span,—
An’ ef you should even think it, ‘ T is n't proper fur to say That you want to hear the ol’ tunes In the ol’ - fashioned way.
But I think that some bright mornin’, When the toils of life air o'er, An’ the sun o’ heaven arisin’ Glads with light the happy shore,
I shall hear the angel chorus, In the realms of endless day, A-singin’ o’ the ol’ tunes In the ol’ - fashioned way.
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