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There's a little girl in our neighborhood,
her name is Charlotte Johnson and she's really lookin' good.
I had to go and see her, so I called her on the phone.
I walked over to her house and this was going on:

Her brother was on the sofa, eatin' chocolate pie,
her Mama was in the kitchen cuttin' chicken up to fry.
Her daddy was in the backyard rollin' up a garden hose,
I was on the porch with Charlotte, feelin' love down to my toes...
and we were Swingin', yes we were Swingin'...
Little Charlotte she's as pretty as the angels when they sing,
I can't believe I'm out here on her front porch in this swing,
just-a-swingin,

Yeah, and we'll be swingin, yes, we'll be swinging.
Little Charlotte she's as pretty as the angels when they sang,
I can't believe I'm out here on the front porch in the swang,
just-a-swangin.

Now Charlotte she's the darlin', she's the apple of my eye,
and when I'm on the swang with her it makes me almost high.
And Charlotte is my lover and she has been since the sprang,
I just can't believe it started on her front porch in this swang.

Just a swangin, well just a swangin,
Little Charlotte she's as pretty as the angels when they sang,
I can't believe I'm out here on the front porch in the swang,
just-a-swangin.

I said, Little Charlotte she's as pretty as the angels when they sang,
I can't believe I'm out here on her front porch in the swang,
just-a-swangin.


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woehema 27-Jan-2008 20:53
What is the name of this song?
Adalberto Tiburzi29-Jul-2004 09:24
A pity there isn't any Charlotte in the swing. Oh well, someone was behind the camera, anyway... *sigh*
Marisa Livet27-Jul-2004 13:49
I’m an alien here, a stranger, an intruder…it’s not my place, I was not invited…
The gentleman, who is smartly visiting around in his paper avatar, would not share with me, what belongs to him and I would stubbornly refuse, his possible formal and a little annoyed invitation to sit and have a Mimosa in the patio. He would invite me only because he’s polite and, after all, I remain a woman, even thought not a lady…
But I’m cheeky and curious and adventurous and brazen, I peep everywhere and then I slip away and the pictures was so beautiful, that I could not help showing myself up and sitting for a moment in that swing, while nobody else was around.
It’s like a movie, a black and white old movie, with those swings hung up on chains in a southern patio and apple pie smell from the kitchen, when Mammy the black nanny, controls over the lace curtain on the window that her girl doesn’t allow that boy to take too many “familiarity” under her light blouse.
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