Lyle: [Taunting the mainly-black rail workers] When you was slaves, you sang like birds. Come on! Let's hear a good, old-fashioned nigger work song!
[Enraged ("Nigger work song...?"), the workers move to attack him, but are stopped by Bart: He promptly proceeds to sing...]
Bart: [Crooning, Sammy Davis, Jr.-style, with fellow railworkers providing backing vocals] I, get no kick, from champagne... Mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all...[the bullying supervisors look immensely confused] so why then should it be true?...that I get a belt - outta you... Some get a kick from coca-yeai-yeaiiiinnnneee...
Lyle: Hold it! Hold it! What the hell is that shit?! I meant a song! A real song! Like [singing] "Swing low, sweet chariot"...
[The railworkers mumble to each other in mock confusion]
Lyle: Don't know that one, huh. Well how about "De Camptown Ladies"?
Bart: De Camptown Ladies?
Railworkers: De Camptown Ladies?
Lyle: Oh, you know! "De Camptown ladies sing this song, doo-dah, doo-dah! Camptown Race Track five miles long, oh-de-do-da-dahy!"
[The white supervisors begin joining in, complete with ludicrous dancing actions, much to the amusement of the railworkers]
Copy quote link to Clipboard
  »   More Quotes from
  »   More Quotes from
  »   Back to the