This is an online fiddle lesson for the old time tune "Golden Slippers."
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Genre: Old Time, Bluegrass, Gospel
Skill Level: Beginner, Intermediate
Key of D
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Video #1: Here is a video of me playing and singing the old time tune "Golden Slippers."
buy clomid online europe http://westatescompanies.com/portfolio/river-bend-properties/ "Golden Slippers" is a popular song commonly sung in the 19th century. The song, penned by African-American James A. Bland in 1879, is considered an American standard today. It is particularly well known as a bluegrass instrumental standard.
A minstrel show song set in the style of a spiritual, the song is apparently a parody of the spiritual "Golden Slippers", popularized after the American Civil War by the Fisk Jubilee Singers. Today "Oh, Dem Golden Slippers" is often referred to simply as "Golden Slippers", further obscuring the original spiritual.
Golden Slippers Verse 1 Oh, my golden slippers are laid away 'Cause I don't expect to wear ‘em ‘til my wedding day And my long tailed coat, that I love so well I’ll wear up in the chariot in the morn And my long white robe that I bought last June I'm goin' to get changed 'cause it fits too soon And the old grey horse that I used to drive I will hitch him to the chariot in the morn chorus: Oh, them golden slippers, Oh, them golden slippers Golden slippers I'm goin' to wear because they look so neat Oh, them golden slippers, Oh, them golden slippers Golden slippers I'm goin' to wear to walk the golden street Verse 2: Oh, my old banjo hangs on the wall 'Cause it ain't been tuned since way last fall But the folks all say we'll have a good time When we ride up in the chariot in the morn There's ol' brother Ben and his sister, Luce They will telegraph the news to uncle Bacco Juice What a great camp meetin' there will be that day When we ride up in the chariot in the morn Verse 3: So, it's good-bye, children I will have to go Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow And your ulster coats, why, you will not need When you ride up in the chariot in the morn But your golden slippers will be nice and clean And your age will be just sweet sixteen And your white kid gloves you will have to wear When you ride up in the chariot in the morn