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Once a mockingbird, he was overheardSinging out a word, to a cattle herd,'All you bovine creatures, dig what I'm layin' down!All you sinners drop everything.EverythingLet the melody and the harmony ring.Let it ringLift arms up to Heaven and sing.Ring-a-dingSing you sinners, won't you sway and swingWhat a thingStart with clapping' y'hands all about.All aboutDon't be silent, Let the Lord hear y'shoutShout it outAnd just let the music come outOf yer snoutSing you sinners, wontcha' sway and swingCheck it outDig the drift of what I meanIn a world where there's no music, Old ScratchSatan gets his kicks, He's up to his tricksHe'll be laughing up & down the banks, He, He, He!SongtexteOf that River StyxYou're so wicked, baby, and you're depravedYou can raveIt's apparent that you have mis-behavedTo your graveBut if you should want to be savedJus' behaveTake a listen now to the birdStop all that chewin' yer cud, and all that standin' in the mud there.Swing, people! Swing every chortle from yer mortal portal.I dig that everyone believes that cattle prodigies are like a sneezeHard blowin', missin one lick of blowin' talent to show.If you sing, you gotta swingJust remember that the day will come When you will just be steak on a plate.Folk, you know it's fate!So dig the music of the swing-o-sphere, Before yer swing arrives Too late.That's a little too dark.Still, it is true, We've got breath for such a limited time.What are ya', stupid? You cows, you'd think to sing was a crime.In defence now, hence now, Here comes Adele McCluck:Mrs. Mockingbird, I must say, You haven't heard the friendly bellowing swing of our friends The cows as they shed their way from Teagarden to Fuller.Instead of spendin' every day just sneakin' around to lift another lick,These cats work on their cow-tone so when they get up to blow a Fatter bone-toneInto the ozone.And, furthermoreYou tweety birds are always singin' away, Never givin' up a thought Of what you say.We cows do, shedding takes up most of our daySo when we start & settle in to play we can sayA moo is an array of what cows have always known as the best and Only way to play.What we mean to say isBefore the band will let you singSing with Fletcher HendersonYou'd better get yourself to swingLike the Bean or SatchSo your horn can blow a single note or two of deeper thinkingThat's the way to swingSo set your mind upon a toneWhen you're sheddin' all aloneAnd you will have a cornerstoneLike the bass trombone Blow your horn and take a bowSo that you're swingin' like the cowsPythagoras would be so proud of us. Aus Songtexte Mania