Why hello there, why don't y'all gather round so I can tell ya'll a story

This here is the tale of the black ginger

It goes a little something like this

Mama and Daddy sitting in a tree, make a little love, make a little seed

Bun out the oven about thirty-two weeks

A brand new little baby with soul antique

Well, a brand new little baby with soul antique

Daddy was a painter like rhythm and blues

Mama was a teacher, didn't wear no shoes

Baby was a mix, yeah, baby was a fuse

A little black ginger without a clue

A little black ginger without a clue

Come on

That pickney boy child, wild and free

The worries of the world, weren't no skin off his knee

Looked at the birds and he looked at the bees, but never much seen the forrest for the trees, well, he never much seen the forrest foe the trees

That boy went running like a wild child

Didn't do it with grace, but he did it with style

The girlies turned to give him a smile

He found himself a lover of the feminine wiles

He found himself a lover of the feminine wiles

Made his heart go like this

Woo, woo, woo, woo

Left for the pickin' were his heart strings

Cozy winter nights and summer flings

Didn't find comfort in none of these things

He loved guitar and a ring-a-ting-ting

He loved guitar and a ring-a-ting-ting

That's just a story for a music man

He plays a few tunes, so give him a hand

Don't forget to tip the boys in the band

And listen to the music if the lyrics been banned

Better listen to the music if the lyrics been banned

Tell them listen to the music if the lyrics been banned

And that's the story of the black ginger, y'all

Bye now