Thumb Pick Pete

Way out in the country where the friendly folks meet
You can usually find a fellow called Thumb Pick Pete
He got a five string banjo pick on his thumb
And makes a lot of music with his pinga-panga-pumb

(Yeah) They call him Thumb Pick Pete
(Oh) Ain't that music sweet
(Ahh) Why don't you come on Pete
Yeah, pick a little music while we shuffle our feet

Well he don't read a note but he never missed a beat
He just sits there a-picking for the shuffling feet
Well they don't pay him money 'cause his music ain't for sale
And a Dominicker chicken is a union scale

(Yeah) They call him Thumb Pick Pete
(Oh) Ain't that music sweet
(Ahh) Why don't you come on Pete
Yeah, pick a little music for the shuffling feet

When the moon is rising and the night is still
Well the notes come a-ringing off-a banjo hill
Ole Pete's got the five string wound up tight
And he might keep a-picking 'til broad daylight

(Yeah) They call him Thumb Pick Pete
(Oh) Ain't that music sweet
(Ahh) Why don't you come on Pete
Yeah, pick a little music while we shuffle our feet

When they call ole Pete through the golden gate
Well I think I got it figured what'll be his fate
St. Peter gonna greet him with a big wide grin
Say, "Pick up your banjo and come right in"

(Yeah) They call him Thumb Pick Pete
(Oh) Ain't that music sweet
(Ahh) Hey, come on Pete
Now, pick a little music while we shuffle our feet