"Mac, uh, uh, do me that little spiel you did about Uncle Ned a little while ago, will ya?"

"Oh, ha, well, It used to be fun to be on radio. We used to be able to, uh, sing songs the way we wanted to sing them or the way they were originally written, and, uh, the first thing you know, when they got to organizing these pressure groups all over the country, and, uh I don't care what kind of song you, uh, sing in dialect, uh, or anything like that. You know know you're gonna step on somebody's toes. So, there used to be an old, uh, song, it probably was a folk song to start with, and was probably used by [?] too. It went like this."

Now there was an old darkie and his name was Uncle Ned
And he lived long, long ago
And he hadn't any wool on the top of his head
The place where the wool oughta grow

Then laid down the shovel in the hole
Hang up the fiddle and the bowl
'Cause there's no more work for poor Uncle Ned
'Cause he's gone where the good darkies go

"Now you couldn't sing that song like that today. You'd have to do it something like this."

Now, there was an old gentleman of African-American extraction by the name of Uncle Edward
Who departed this life sometime previously
And he hadn't any capillary substance on the apex of his cranium
The place where the capillary substance oughta vegetate

Then lay down the agricultural impliments
And hang up the musical instruments
For there's no more manual exertion for poor old Uncle Edward
'Cause he's gone where gentlemen of African-American extraction congregate
[Laughing]