Sing You Sinners

Once a mockingbird - he was overheard Singing out a word - to a cattle herd, 'All you bovine creatures - dig what I'm layin' down! All you sinners drop everything. Everything Let the melody and the harmony ring. Let it ring Lift arms up to Heaven and sing. Ring-a-ding Sing you sinners, won't you sway & swing What a thing Start with clapping' y'hands all about. All about Don't be silent - Let the Lord hear y'shout Shout it out And just let the music come out Of yer snout Sing you sinners, wontcha' sway & swing Check it out Dig the drift of what I mean In a world where there's no music - Old Scratch Satan gets his kicks - He's up to his tricks He'll be laughing up & down the banks - He, He, He! Of that River Styx You're so wicked, baby, and you're depraved You can rave It's apparent that you have mis-behaved To your grave But if you should want to be saved Jus' behave Take a listen now to the bird Stop 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 sneeze: Hard blowin', missin one lick of blowin' talent to show. If you sing, you gotta swing Just 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: Cheryl's solo) 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-tone Into the ozone. And, furthermore You tweety birds are always singin' away, Never givin' up a thought of what you say. We cows do, shedding takes up most of our day So when we start and settle in to play we can say: A moo is an array of what cows have always known as the best and Only way to play. What we mean to say is Before the band will let you sing Sing with Fletcher Henderson You'd better get yourself to swing Like the Bean or Satch So your horn can blow a single note or two of deeper thinking That's the way to swing So set your mind upon a tone When you're sheddin' all alone And you will have a cornerstone Like the bass trombone Blow your horn and take a bow So that you're swingin' like the cows Pythagoras would be so proud of us.