Tambourine Sunday

Sister Ruth, shake it! Brother Lee, clap it! Roof about to rise off this old wood floor Ain't nobody sitting down no more Deacon's tie is crooked and the ushers lost their fans Choir's in the aisle now, babies clapping hands Pastor tried to preach but the organ wouldn't quit Took off his glasses, said Lord, I'll testify a bit Sister Ruth, shake it! Brother Lee, clap it! Roof about to rise off this old wood floor Ain't nobody sitting down no more Drums, let me hear it Bass, let me hear it Everybody, one more time Potato salad's waiting but we ain't through yet This the best kind of tired that a body can get