HIT’S a gittin’ mighty late, w’en de Guinny-hins squall,
En you better dance now, of you gwineter dance a tall,
Fer by dis time tor-morrer night you can’t hardly crawl,
Kaze youil hatter take de hoe ag’in en likewise do inaul—
Don’t you hear dat bay colt a kickin’ in his stall?
Stop yo’ humpin’ up-yo’ sho’lders do!
Dat’ll never do! Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Hit takes a heap er scrougin’
For ter git you thoo—
Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Ef you niggers don’t watch, you’ll sing anudder chune,
Fer De sun’ll rise’n ketch you ef you don’t be mighty soon;
En de stars is gittin’ paler, en de ole gray coon
Is a settin’ inde grape-vine a watchin’ fer do moon.
W’en a feller comes a knockin’
Des holler—Oh, shoo!
Hoplight, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Oh, swing dat yaller gal!
Do, boys, do!
Hoplight, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
Oh, tu’n me loose! Lemme ’lone! Go way, now!
W’at you speck I come a dancin’ fer of I dunno how?
Deze do ve’y kinder footses w’at kicks up a row;
Can’t you jump inter do middle en make yo’ gal a bow?
Look at dat merlatter man
A follerin’ up Sue;
Hoplight, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
De boys ain’t a gwine
W’en you cry boo hoo—
Hop light, ladies,
Oh, Miss Loo!
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