Omp, omp!

That was the kind of a bass

That oozed from the face

Of E. Perley Atkins who lived in our place.

He sung at all the paring bees, the quilting teas,

and parti-ees

He sung at all the shindigees we had for miles

around.

He opened his lip and let her rip and folks were

never obliged to tease,