WHEN I DO THE HOOCHY COOCHY IN THE SKY
I ain’t got no money and I don’t need none,
‘Cos I don’t expect to stay here very long;
An old colored preacher by de name of Parson Brown,
He used to sing to me dis good ole song:
Says he, “I know you coons will stare
When I fly up thro’ the air,
When I bid all of you black chromos good bye;
I will raise a big sensation with the white population,
When I do the hoochy-coochy in de sky!
When you feel that funny feeling,
As it over you is stealing.
You will flop your snow-white wings and try to fly;
I know the angels they will giggle,
When I do that awful wiggle,
When I do the hoochy-coochy in the sky.
They’ll turn the X-rays on me when the music plays,
So dat ev’ry one can see into the dance,
I’m goin’ to do the coochy seven thousand diff’rent ways,
And I’ll knock the Midway people in a trance.
Oh, I have got a big balloon
With a seat for ev’ry coon,
So now ev’ry nig must either go or die;
Don’t you listen to strange rumors,
but go buy a pair of “bloomers,”
For to do the hoochy coochy in the sky!