Chorus
Said, Lord! remove those evil spirits, that’s concealed in my trunk,
In which so often I bathe my soul, but never was I drunk.
Deliver me along a different path and close mine eyes even to an empty flask.
And if temptation greets me along my way
May Thee never let bad thoughts upon my conscience play.
Parson in his sermon, done oh! very well,
He spoke of hypocrites, backsliders and infidels,
He mentioned of St. Peter, who is writing the deeds we do
And said when sliding back is untrue.
He preached until his mind was a little overtaxed
And knowing that bottle he had hid was the real old true facts.
ON SUNDAY MORN
Long side de road
Where my heart overflowed,
From de moanen uv a dove
While I’s dreamin’ uv yo love
On Sunday morn.
While I sit an thing uv yo,
And de sun shines doun on de mistic’s dew,
In dis beautiful place,
I kin see yo sweet face
On Sunday morn.
I love to roam de putty wile wood,
It reminds me uv our dearest childhood,
To listen to de birds
And music widout word
On Sunday morn.
Ef fate holds a day we’re to meet again
To relieve my heart uv its aken pain,
If it’s God’s decree
I hope it will be
On Sunday morn.
TOAST
Leave me not dear just now,
The words I solemnly vow.
Without your care
This world I fear,
I’ll take a glass of little bubbles
Then life will be full of troubles.