When de fiddle gits to singin’ out a ol’
Vahginny reel,
An’ you ‘mence to feel a ticklin’ in yo’ toe an’
in yo’ heel;
Ef you t’ink you got ‘uligion an’ you wants to
keep it, too,
You jes’ bettah tek a hint an’ git yo’self clean
out o’ view.
Case de time is mighty temptin’ when de chune
is in de swing,
Fu’ a darky, saint or sinner man, to cut de
pigeon-wing.
An’ you could n’t he’p f’om dancin’ ef yo’ feet
was boun’ wif twine,
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin’ down
de line.

Don’t you know Miss Angelina? She’s de
da’lin’ of de place.
W’y, dey ain’t no high-toned lady wif sich man-
nahs an’ sich grace.
She kin move across de cabin, wif its planks all
rough an’ wo’;
Jes’ de same ‘s ef she was dancin’ on ol’ mistus’
ball-room flo’.
Fact is, you do’ see no cabin—evaht’ing you
see look grand,
An’ dat one ol’ squeaky fiddle soun’ to you jes’
lak a ban’;
Cotton britches look lak broadclof an’ a linsey
dress look fine,
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin’ down
de line.

Some folks say dat dancin’s sinful, an’ de blessed
Lawd, dey say,
Gwine to purnish us fu’ steppin’ w’en we hyeah
de music play.
But I tell you I don’ b’lieve it, fu’ de Lawd is
wise and good,
An' he made de banjo's metal an' he made de
fiddle's wood,
An’ he made de music in dem, so I don’ quite
t’ink he’ll keer
Ef our feet keeps time a little to de melodies
we hyeah.
W’y, dey’s somep’n’ downright holy in de way
our faces shine,
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin’ down
de line.

Angelina steps so gentle, Angelina bows so low,
An’ she lif’ huh sku’t so dainty dat huh shoetop
skacely show:
An’ dem teef o’ huh’n a-shinin’, ez she tek you
by de han’—
Go ‘way, people, d’ ain’t anothah sich a lady in
de lan’!
When she’s movin’ thoo de figgers er a-daincin’
by huhse’f,
Folks jes’ stan’ stock-still a-sta’in’, an’ dey mos’
nigh hol’s dey bref;
An’ de young mens, dey’s a-sayin’, “I’s gwine
mek dat damsel mine,”
When Angelina Johnson comes a-swingin’ down
de line.

 

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