She says, Marie, Marie, come and get Claude.

Marie, come and get Claude.

You must come and see us sometime.

And then, you be real nice to Marie.

Her name's Marie, and he'd like us to take her and Mr. Butler.

And has Mary Pickford brought us a mess of pwne and skin possum?

And they always telephone me on my birthday.

And with Margaret and Boston, I can certainly spare him, plus her upstairs girl, Marie.

Sometimes, even now, I wake up in the morning and I think,

Sometimes they do both, sing a chorus and then scrap a chorus.

I was playing with it by the cement pond, and the chain broke, and it got away, and I just can't find it.

And if it's again the law to make a little rheumatism medicine, then take me to the chain gang.

And as we walk, we always keep a smile upon our face.

Why, your arms will ache for weeks, and you'll break out these large black and blue bumps and sometimes break out in a rash.

It's always nice to know you ain't been doing something foolish.

Granny always brings a couple of jugs to barn raisins and quilting parties.

And I always bragged that you could beat Ellie Mae to the altar.

Well... if I need it, I could always come perhaps and pick it up.

Every time I went to look for it, somebody always come to the door.

Wouldn't it be worth waiting for if one of these days there come a knock on the door, and we go to answer it, and we open up the door, and standing there would be Mary Pickford.