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NEW ORLEANS (Newton Alexander, 1912) I don't know what to do, I feel so doggone blue, I'd like to take a boat, I'd like to go a float, Along the Mississippi, to old New Orleans, Where I know I've got a good old Southern home; That's where I want to be, And you'll agree with me, About that feeling grand When you put out your hand And find a Welcome there It's worth all you can give; Well that's the way folks treat you down where I live. About a year ago, I didn't even know, What money really means, Till I left New Orleans, And found that friends are few and people mighty mean, If you ain't got plenty of that old long green, I'm tired of roamin' now, And I just feel somehow, If I could lay my head On my old Southern bed, I'd be contented there Until the day I die; Because it's Home, Sweet, Home, And that's the reason why. New Orleans, New Orleans, In Louisiana a midst the Bayou streams; Little piccanninies playin' 'round your door, Steamboat whistles tootin' 'long the river shore; New Orleans, New Orleans, There's always a Welcome for you there it seems, 'Cause hospitality, is a reality, 'Way down in dear old New Orleans.

    


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