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(Red Grammer, Smilin' Atcha Music)

When I was a boy, choir used to meet
At the little white church just down the street.
A bunch of us kids learnin' how to sing,
But, Lord, we loved to make that little church ring
With Har-ar-ar...mony.

When I got a little older, used to get with the guys
And hour after hour we'd harmonize.
'Fore we knew it we had ourselves a band;
Saturday night we'd be up on the stand
Singin' Har-ar-ar...mony.
One voice makes me want to sing,
Two voices make me feel like a king,
Three voices gettin' out of hand,
Four like to take me to the promised land.
Singin' Har-ar-ar...mony,
Singin' Har-ar-ar...mony.

Well, I never had much but this old guitar
'Til that blue eyed girl, she stole my heart.
She can't sing and she can't play,
But the Lord up above knows she has her own way
Of makin' Har-ar-ar...mony.

Now I've  got a little boy comes up to my knee,
He loves nothin' better than to sing with me.
One of these days, he'll look me in the eye
Sayin', ``You take the low part, and I'll take the high...
Now the day I wake up and can't sing a song,
That's the day I'll be movin' on.
I got a reservation and it always stands.
They're savin' me a place in the angel band,
Singin' Har-ar-ar...mony.

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