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Kick your shoes off in the corner mama |
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Tuck the babies all up snug |
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Sis Draper's comin' over, we all gonna cut a rug |
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When you see that lantern swingin' yonder |
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Comin' up the Holler Road |
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Them dogs'll get to barkin' |
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Ought to tie em all up with a rope |
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You boys better get in tune |
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Sis Draper's gonna be here soon |
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Don't shoot no dice nor get too tight |
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If you're gonna pick with Sis tonight |
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She came down from the Boston mountains |
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There was lightnin' in the air |
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Honey on them fiddle strings |
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Magnolia in her hair |
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She's a diamond in the rough |
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If you can't see the shine that's tough |
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Play all night for the likes of us |
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Sis Draper's got the touch |
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She'll play all night if she feels like it |
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Have some fruit punch if you spike it |
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Sis don't care who don't like it |
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See, ol' Sis has got a Hell of a bow arm on her |
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She stepped up and sawed one off |
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And uncle Cleve dropped his jaw |
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Said she's the best I ever saw |
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She must be from Arkansas |
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I think Grandpa used to date her |
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Grandma says she still hates her |
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All the fellas stand up straighter |
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In the presence of Sis Draper |
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Sis Draper is the devil's daughter |
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Plays the fiddle Daddy bought her |
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Plays it like her mama taught her |
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She's a travelin' Arkansawyer |
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Put her fiddle in a box |
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Said it's getting awful late |
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She's on her way to Little Rock |
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And Little Rock can't wait |
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So we all stood out in the yard |
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Hands all full of watermelon |
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Watcher her leave watched her go |
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Wishin' I was in that wagon |
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Sis Draper is the devil's daughter |
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Plays the fiddle Daddy bought her |
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Plays it like her mama taught her |
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She's a travelin' Arkansawyer |