Extending the vocal range with challenging tonic arpeggios
and octave skips.
Description |
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- Grade: Fourth
- Origin: USA - Georgia, Confederate Civil War Song
- Key: C Major
- Time: 2/4
- Form: rhythm: AAABCB - pitches: ABaCDC
song: AB (verse/refrain)
- Rhythm: beginners: | ti/ ri ti ti | syncopation,
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ta ta | ta/a | ti ti ti ti |
- Pitches: intermediate: Re Mi Fa So Si La Ti Do Re Mi
- raised dominant, extended range
- Intervals: advanced: So/Do, Do\La, La\Si/La, Do\So\Mi descending tonic arpeggio, Do/Mi8, La/Do, Ti/Re8, Do\So/Do, Do\Mi, Mi/So, Fa/La, La\Re, Mi/Mi ascending octave skip
- Musical Elements: notes: half, quarter, dotted eighth, eighth, sixteenth; verse/refrain, syncopation, raised dominant (Si)
- Key Words: US history, US Civil War, Confederate States, Georgia, Yankees, Rebels, soldiers, mule, custom, enchanting, goober peas (peanuts), General, battle, row [rou] (a loud noise or uproar), rifles, Georgia Militia, interesting, rhymes, mighty, rags, fleas, kiss, wives, sweethearts, rations, scanty, wearing; abbreviations: d'ya (do you), subject's (subject is); possessive: summer's;
colloquial: enchanting-er (more enchanting) , grinders (teeth)
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"Goober Peas"
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1. |
Sitting by the roadside, on a summer's day,
Chatting with my messmates, passing time away;
Lying in the shadow underneath the trees,
Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas.
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Refrain: |
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Peas, peas, peas, peas, eating goober peas.
Goodness how delicious, eating goober peas.
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2. |
When a horse-man passes, the soldiers have a rule
To cry out their loudest, "Mister here's your mule!"
But another custom, enchanting-er than these
Is wearing out your fingers, eating goober peas. |
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Refrain |
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3. |
Just before the battle, the General hears a row
He says "The Yanks are coming, I hear their rifles now.
He turns around in wonder, and what d'ya think he sees?
The Georgia Militia, eating goober peas.
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Refrain |
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4. |
I think my song has lasted almost long enough.
The subject's interesting, but the rhymes are mighty tough.
I wish the war was over, so free from rags and fleas
We'd kiss our wives and sweethearts, and gobble goober peas. |
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Refrain |
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5. |
But now we are in prison and likely long to stay,
The Yankees they are guarding us, no hope to get away;
Our rations they are scanty, 'tis cold enough to freeze,—
I wish I was in Georgia, eating goober peas. |
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Refrain |
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Back to top. |
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Additional Formats |