| Jim Johnson took me home last night
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| 'Twas the first time that we’d met
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| He claimed to be a small-town sheik
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| And all his jive he bet
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| He rest his hat and coat and said, «Here I’ll stay.»
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| But his feathers fell when he heard me say:
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| Not on the first night, baby!
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| Ain’t knowed you long enough!
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| Don’t you think you’re kind of hasty
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| To pull that kind of stuff!
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| Don’t slam my front door, please, when you go out
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| Just because there was nothin' doin' what you was thinkin' about
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| Not on the first night, baby!
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| Or maybe not at all!
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| Maybe not at all!
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| Spoken:
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| Now, if Miss Clara Smith would sing the same song:
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| Not on the first night, baby!
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| Sweet Mama Clara ain’t knowed you long enough!
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| Why, don’t you think you’re kind of hasty
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| Just to pull that kind of stuff!
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| Run round the block, hot papa, and get yourself some air
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| This ain’t no seaport, daddy, don’t you try to anchor in here!
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| Because not on the first night, baby!
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| Or maybe not at all!
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| I say, maybe not at all!
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| Spoken:
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| I’m gettin' ready for the Empress, Miss Bessie Smith, lord!
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| Not on the first night, babe!
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| Ain’t knowed you long enough!
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| Don’t you think you kind of hasty
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| To pull that kind of stuff!
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| Be yourself, kind mister, that’s no way to act
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| Let my doorknob hit you in the middle of your back!
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| Not on the first night, baby!
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| Or maybe not at all!
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| I said, maybe not at all! |