What holy cities are to nomadic tribes - a symbol of race and a bond of union - great books are to the wandering souls of men: they are the Meccas of the mind.
G.E. Woodberry
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Sookie Sookie
Let it hang out baby, let it hang out now, now na-na now
Let it hang out baby, everybody work out
Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sue
Let it hang out baby, do the Baltimore jig
Let it hang out baby, do the boomerang with me
Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sue
Really got it bad child, drink a bottle of turpentine
When you wake up in the mornin', feelin' kinda fine
Let it hang out baby, let it hang out now, now na-na now
You better watch your step girl, don't step on that banana peel
If your foot should hit it, you'll go up to the ceiling
Hang it in baby, hang it in baby
Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sue
Let it hang out baby, let it hang out now, now na-na now
Let it hang out baby, everybody work out
Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sookie, Sooki, Sookie, Sue