Fiddle 
CHORUS: Oh, there ain’t no bugs on me There ain’t no bugs on me. There may be bugs on some of you mugs But there ain’t no bugs on me. 
Fiddle 
The night was dark and dreary And the air was full of sleet The old man joined the Ku Klux (Clan) And ma, she lost her sheet. 
CHORUS: Fiddle 
Bill Sunday is a preacher His church is always full The neighbors gather from miles around To hear him shoot the bull 
CHORUS: Fiddle 
I asked that gal to marry me, And what do you think she said, 
���Go away from me you bug-eyed fool, Or I���ll beat you on the head.��� 
(ALTERNATE CHORUS) Well there ain’t no flies on me There ain’t no flies on me There may be flies on some of you guys But there ain’t no flies on me. 
CHORUS 
Fiddle 
ALTERNATE CHORUS 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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