After the crash in '29 Pop went on the bum, returning periodically from his sojourns through the southern jungles for bedtime songfests on his lap. He's his version (as phonetically as I can manage). Way down south where I was born, Sing some Polly watcha kimeo. Feed your horse on injun corn, Sing some Polly watcha kimeo. (chorus) Guymill dee, guymill doe, Oh, my heart! With a rum chicka bum chicka chew tabacca soda cracker firecracker, KI...ME...OH. Next comes two girls dressed in white, Sing some Polly watcha kimeo. How'd you like to go to heaven on the tail of a kite, Sing some Polly watcha kimeo. (Chorus)
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