"I've rambled all over this country/And never nobody play it that way/Shake that thing, Boy/Boy, strut your stuff/Quit your foolishness/That's why the girls cry when you pick for them/He's a fool with that guitar/He's cutting it, now/I'm gonna learn how to play one like that myself/Just strut your stuff we don't care...," etc; break it off, turn it out, get down, jam on it, etc. A little piece of an eternal jam, 1927, Macon, Georgia.
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