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Oh I come from Alabama with a banjo on my |
| I'm to my love for to |
| It rained the day I the it was dry |
| The sun so hot I froze to Susanna don't you cry. |
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| Oh, Susanna don't cry for me |
| For I from Alabama, |
| With my banjo on my knee. |
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| I a the other night when was still, |
| I I coming up the hill, |
| The buckwheat was in mouth, the tear was in her eye, |
| I said I'm coming from Dixieland Susanna don't you cry. |
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| I soon will be in New Orleans and around |
| And when I find my gal Susanne the ground |
| if I do not find then I will surely die |
| And dead and buried, Susanna don't you |