Well, Panz, while you are in a mist, take a look at the post concerning my query on that classical piece. I even called my sister about it.
No. Dennis had the Dennis Day show and was a voice in Disney's Johnny Appleseed. On mR Ed it was Alan Young.
Alan Young. of course, thanks, edgar.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And no one can talk to a horse of course
That is, of course, unless the horse is the famous Mr. Ed.
Go right to the source and ask the horse
He'll give you the answer that you'll endorse.
He's always on a steady course.
Talk to Mr. Ed.
People yakkity yak a streak and waste your time of day
But Mister Ed will never speak unless he has something to say.
A horse is a horse, of course, of course,
And this one'll talk 'til his voice is hoarse.
You never heard of a talking horse?
Well listen to this. I am Mister Ed.
"Wilbuuuuuuuuuur!
Your hands are coooold!
A famous cowboy actor was Ed's voice, but the name escapes me now.
A famous cowboy actor was Ed's voice, but the name escapes me now.
more tv classics
The Addams Family
They're creepy and they're kooky,
Mysterious and spooky,
They're all together ooky,
The Addams Family.
Their house is a museum
Where people come to see 'em
They really are a scream
The Addams Family.
(Neat)
(Sweet)
(Petite)
So get a witches shawl on
A broomstick you can crawl on
We're gonna pay a call on
The Addams Family
Green Acres
Green acres is the place for me.
Farm livin' is the life for me.
Land spreadin' out so far and wide
Keep Manhattan, just give me that countryside.
New York is where I'd rather stay.
I get allergic smelling hay.
I just adore a penthouse view.
Dah-ling I love you but give me Park Avenue.
...The chores.
...The stores.
...Fresh air.
...Times Square
You are my wife.
Good bye, city life.
Green Acres we are there.
All In the Family
Boy the way Glen Miller played
Songs that made the hit parade.
Guys like us we had it made,
Those were the days.
And you knew who you were then,
Girls were girls and men were men,
Mister we could use a man
Like Herbert Hoover again.
Didn't need no welfare state,
Everybody pulled his weight.
Gee our old LaSalle ran great.
Those were the days.
The Jefferson's
Well we're movin on up, To the east side.
To a deluxe apartment in the sky.
Movin on up
To the east side.
We finally got a piece of the pie.
Fish don't fry in the kitchen;
Beans don't burn on the grill.
Took a whole lotta tryin'
Just to get up that hill.
Now we're up in teh big leagues
Gettin' our turn at bat.
As long as we live, it's you and me baby
There ain't nothin wrong with that.
Well we're movin on up,
To the east side.
To a deluxe apartment in the sky.
Movin on up
To the east side.
We finally got a piece of the pie.
and since this is WA2k Radio
WKRP In Cincinnati
Baby, if you've ever wondered,
Wondered whatever became of me,
I'm living on the air in Cincinnati,
Cincinnati, WKRP.
Got kind of tired packing and unpacking,
Town to town and up and down the dial
Maybe you and me were never meant to be,
But baby think of me once in awhile.
I'm at WKRP in Cincinnati..
That's it, dj. <smile>
panz, I'm assuming that Wilbur was Alan Young. Hee hee!
Listeners, although mules and horses are one mode of transportation, I'd like for use to look at the Irish theme once again.
JJorge has an Irishness thread going, but rather than just see post after post, I prefer the interaction type.
St. Patrick's Day history in Ireland and in the U.S.
With the origin being Ireland it is obvious that the Day is also holiday there,
as it is here in the US.But In Ireland, it is more of a religious holiday
similar to Christmas and Easter.
With grand parades, community feasts, charity show, the mass,
St Patrick's Day is celebrated in Ireland.
The parades, shamrocks, and green beer are provided primarily for tourists.
In fact, it has turned out
to be one of the most celebrated events in Ireland and a major tourist attraction.
With so many activities and programs it may seem a little confusing about what
actually is the theme of this multi dimensional celebration.
The early Irish immigrants like the English, Dutch, German, French and the likes,
brought their traditions in United States. But it was not until 1737 that
the immigrants really celebrated the Day. And It was in Boston where the Day was
first celebrated in a public way.
Gradually other states took it up. And it was New York
that took out the largest ever St Patrick' s Day parade. Held since 1762,
the New York City parade on St Patrick's Day draws more than
one million spectators each year.
Meanwhile the city of Chicago has developed a unique tradition of
coloring the river water green. It started in 1962 when 100 pounds of
green vegetable dye were added to its river, enough
to keep it green for a week. The tradition has continued till date.
Now, 40 pounds of a green food coloring keep the river green for only a few hours.
These apart Irish community in various cities celebrate the Day with social
and community works. Making charities, attending mass, promoting their own culture,
and feasting with their foods.
Despite all these varieties, all are driven by a unique theme: be an Irish day.
It's a celebration for being Irish and enjoying things Irish.
While it reminds us about St Patrick.
It also tells us to be Irish. With shamrocks and the leprechaun.
As it tells us to cook and feast the Irish way. To laugh away all worries with
Irish jokes. Dance to the tunes of the Irish bands. Try out the Irish words.
And with all these the Day lets us know
the real fun of being Irish.
There are talking horses in Ireland.
an irish song of transportation (and political rebellion)
Johnson's Motor Car
Traditional
'Twas down by Brannigan's Corner, one morning I did stray
I met a fellow rebel, and to me he did say
"We've orders from the captain to assemble at Dunbar
But how are we to get there, without a motor car?"
"Oh, Barney dear, be of good cheer, I'll tell you what we'll do
The specials they are plentiful, the I.R.A. are few
We'll send a wire to Johnson to meet us at Stranlar
And we'll give the boys a bloody good ride in Johnson's Motor Car
When doctor Johnson heard the news he soon put on his shoes
He says this is an urgent case, there is no time to lose
He then put on his castor hat and on his breast a star
You could hear the din all through Glenfin of Johnson's Motor Car
But when he got to the railway bridge, some rebels he saw there
Old Johnson knew the game was up, for at him they did stare
He said "I have a permit, to travel near and far"
"To hell with your English permit, we want your motor car"
"What will my local brethren think, when they hear the news
My car it has been commandeered, by the rebels at Dunluce"
"We'll give you a receipt for it, all signed by Captain Barr
And when Ireland gets her freedom, boy, you'll get your motor car"
Well we put that car in motion and filled it to the brim
With guns and bayonets shining which made old Johnson grim
And Barney hoisted a Sínn Fein flag, and it fluttered like a star
And we gave three cheers for the I.R.A. and Johnson's Motor Car
edgar, hilarious. Who knows what them leprechauns can do when you steal their gold.
dj, awesome song. Johnson's motor car. Wow! I love it.
Panz, I listened to that song. Fabulous. Reminded me of Gershwin.
Well, as I recall, listeners. If one does not wear green on St. Patrick's Day, they may get a big PINCH.
My students used to hope and pray that I would forget to wear something kelly green.
Later folks. I have put off eating long enough.
i love irish songs
some favourites
Bard Of Armagh, The
Traditional
Oh, list to the lay of a poor Irish harper
And scorn not the strains of his old withered hand
But remember his fingers they once could move sharper
To raise up the memory of his dear native land
At a fair or a wake I could twist my shillelagh
Or trip through a jig with my brogues bound with straw
And all the pretty colleens in the village or the valley
Loved their bold Phelim Brady, the bard of Armagh
Oh, how I long to muse on the days of my boyhood
Though four-score and three years have flitted since then
But it bring sweet reflections as every young joy should
For the merry-hearted boys make the best of old men
And when Sergeant Death in his cold arms shall embrace me
Then lull me to sleep with sweet Erin go Bragh
By the side of my Kathleen, my young wife, then place me
And forget Phelim Brady, the bard of Armagh
Courtin' In The Kitchen
Traditional
Come single belle and beau, unto me pay attention
Don't ever fall in love, for it's the devil's own invention
For once I fell in love with a maiden so bewitching
Miss Henrietta Bell out in Captain Kelly's kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
At the age of seventeen I was 'prenticed to a grocer
Not far from Stephen's Green where Miss Henri' used to go sir
Her manners were sublime and she set me heart a-twitchin'
When she invited me to a hooley in the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
Oh, next Sunday bein' the day that we were to have the flare-up
I dressed meself quite gay and I frizzed and oiled me hair up
The Captain had no wife and he had gone a-fishin'
And we kicked up high life down below stairs in the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
With her arm around me waist, she slyly hinted marriage
To the door in dreadful haste came Captain Kelly's carriage
Her eyes were full of hate and poison she was spittin'
When the Captain at the door, walked right into the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
When the Captain came downstairs, though he saw me situation
In despite of all me prayers I was marched off to the station
For me they'd take no bail, but to get home I was itchin'
And I had to tell the tale, how I came into the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
Now, I said she did invite me, but she gave a flat denial
For assault she did indict me, and I was sent for trial
She swore I robbed the house and in spite of all her schreechin'
And I got six months hard for me courtin' in the kitchen
With me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
And me toora loora la and me toora loora laddie
Four Green Fields
Tommy Makem
"What did I have?", said the fine old woman
"What did I have?", this proud old woman did say
"I had four green fields, each one was a jewel
But strangers came and tried to take them from me
I had fine, strong sons, they fought to save my jewels
They fought and died and that was my grief", said she
"Long time ago", said the fine old woman
"Long time ago", this proud old woman did say
"There was war and death, plundering and pillage
My children starved by mountain, valley and sea
And their wailing cries, they shook the very heavens
My four green fields ran red with their blood", said she
"What have I now?", said the fine old woman
"What have I now?", this proud old woman did say
"I have four green fields, one of them's in bondage
In strangers hands that tried to take it from me
But my sons have sons, as brave as were their fathers
My fourth green field will bloom once again", said she
Irish Rover, The
Traditional
On the Fourth of July 1806 we set sail from the sweet cove of Cork
We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks for the grand City Hall in New York
'twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged for and aft and oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts and they called her the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags, we had two million barrels of stone
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides, we had four million barrels of bones
We had five million hogs, and six million dogs, seven million barrels of porter
We had eight million bails of old nanny-goats' tails in the hold of the Irish Rover
There was awl Mickey Coote who played hard on his flute when the ladies lined up for a set
He was tootlin' with skill for each sparkling quadrille, though the dancers were fluther'd and bet
With his smart witty talk, he was cock of the walk and he rolled the dames under and over
They all knew at a glance when he took up his stance that he sailed in the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee, there was Hogan from County Tyrone
There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work and a man from Westmeath called Malone
There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule and Fighting Bill Treacy from Dover
And your man, Mike McCann from the banks of the Bann was the skipper on the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out and the ship lost it's way in the fog
And that whale of a crew was reduced down to two, just meself and the Captain's old dog
Then the ship struck a rock, Oh Lord! what a shock, the bulkhead was turned right over
Turned nine times around and the poor old dog was drowned and the last of the Irish Rover
Jolly Tinker, The
Traditional
As I went down a shady lane, as a door I chanced to knock
Have you any pots or kettles with rusty holes to block?
Well, indeed I have, don't you know I have?
To me rightful loora laddie, well, indeed I have
The missus came out to the door and she asked me to come in
Sayin': "You're welcome jolly tinker and I hope you brought your tin?"
Well, indeed I did, don't you know I did?
To me rightful loora laddie, well, indeed I did
She took me through the kitchen and she led me through the hall
And the servants cried: "The divil, has he come to block us all?"
Well, indeed I have, don't you know I have?
To me rightful loora laddie, well, indeed I have
She took me up the stairs, me lads, to show me what to do
And she fell on the featherbed and I fell on it too
Well, indeed I did, don't you know I did?
To me rightful loora laddie, well, indeed I did
She then picked up the frying-pan and she began to knock
For to let the servants know, me lads, that I was at me work
Well, indeed I was, don't you know I was?
To me rightful loora laddie, well, indeed I was
She put her hand into her pocket and she pulled out twenty pound
Say: "Take this me jolly tinker and we'll have another round
Well, indeed we will, don't you know we will?
To me rightful loora laddie, well, indeed we will
Well, I've been a jolly tinker for this forty years or more
Oh, but such a lovely job as that I never did before
Well, indeed I didn't, don't you know I didn't?
To me rightful loora laddie
Well, indeed I didn't
Muirsheen Durkin
Traditional
In the days I went a courtin' I was never tired resortin'
To an ale-house or a playhouse and many's the house besides
But I told me brother Seamus I'd go off and be right famous
And I never would return again 'til I roamed the world wide
Goodbye Muirsheen Durkin sure I'm sick and tired of working
No more I'll dig the praties and no longer I'll be fooled
As sure's me name is Carney I'll be off to California
Where instead of diggin' praties I'll be diggin' lumps of gold
I've courted girls in Blarney, in Kanturk and in Killarney
In Passage and in Queenstown, that is the Cobh of Cork
Goodbye to all this pleasure I'll be off to take me leisure
And the next time that you hear from me, will be a letter from New York
So it's Goodbye Muirsheen Durkin I'm sick and tired of working
No more I'll dig the praties and no longer I'll be fooled
As sure's me name is Carney I'll be off to California
Where instead of diggin' praties I'll be diggin' lumps of gold
Goodbye to the girls at home I'm going far across the foam
To try and make me fortune in far Amerikay
There's gold and jewels and plenty for the poor and for the gentry
And when I return again I never more will say
Goodbye Muirsheen Durkin sure I'm sick and tired of working
No more I'll dig the praties and no longer I'll be fooled
As sure's me name is Carney I'll be off to California
Where instead of diggin' praties I'll be diggin' lumps of gold
Nell Flaherty's Drake
Traditional
Oh my name it is Nell and the truth for to tell
I come from Cootehill which I'll never deny
I had a fine drake and I'd die for his sake
That me grandmother left me and she goin' to die
The dear little fellow his legs they were yellow
He could fly like a swallow or swim like a hake
Till some dirty savage to grease his white cabbage
Most wantonly murdered me beautiful drake
Now his neck it was green almost fit to be seen
He was fit for a queen of the highest degree
His body was white, and it would you delight
He was plump, fat, and heavy and brisk as a bee
He was wholesome and sound, he would weigh twenty pound
And the universe round I would roam for his sake
Bad luck to the robber be he drunk or sober
That murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake
May his spade never dig, may his sow never pig
May each hair in his wig be well trashed with the flail
My his door never latch, may his roof have no thatch
May his turkeys not hatch, may the rats eat his meal
May every old fairy from Cork to Dun Laoghaire
Dip him snug and airy in river or lake
That the eel and the trout they may dine on the snout
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's drake
May his pig never grunt, may his cat never hunt
May a ghost ever haunt him the dead of the night
May his hens never lay, may his horse never neigh
May his coat fly away like an old paper kite
That the flies and the fleas may the wretch ever tease
May the piercin' March breeze make him shiver and shake
May a lump of the stick raise the bumps fast and quick
On the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's drake
Well the only good news that I have to infuse
Is that old Paddy Hughes and young Anthony Blake
Also Johnny Dwyer and Corney Maguire
They each have a grandson of my darlin' drake
May treasure have dozens of nephews and cousins
And one I must get or me heart it will break
For to set me mind easy or else I'll run crazy
So ends the whole song of Nell Flaherty's drake
Seven Drunken Nights
Traditional
As I went home on Monday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door where my old horse should be?
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely sow that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door where my old coat should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door where my old coat should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a woollen blanket that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But buttons in a blanket sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Wednesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Thursday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
They're two lovely Geranium pots me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But laces in Geranium pots I never saw before
And as I went home on Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed where my old head should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed where my old head should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before
And as I went home on Saturday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two hands upon her breasts where my old hands should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them hands upon your breasts where my old hands should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely night gown that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But fingers in a night gown sure I never saw before
As I went home on Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a thing in her thing where my old thing should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that thing in your thing where my old thing should be
Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before
Whistling Gypsy, The
Traditional
Gypsy rover, come over the hill, down through the valley so shady
He whistled and he sang til the green woods rang and he won the heart of a lady
Ah dee doo ah dee doo da day, ah dee doo ah dee day dee
He whistled and he sang til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady
She left her fathers castle gate, she left her own fine lover
She left her servants and her state, to follow the gypsy rover
Ah dee doo ah dee doo da day, ah dee doo ah dee day dee
He whistled and he sang til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady
Her father saddled up his fastest stead, roamed the valleys all over
Sought his daughter at great speed and the whistling gypsy rover
Ah dee doo ah dee doo da day, ah dee doo ah dee day dee
He whistled and he sang til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady
He came at last to a mansion fine, down by the river Clady
And there was music and there was wine, for the gypsy and his lady
Ah dee doo ah dee doo da day, ah dee doo ah dee day dee
He whistled and he sang til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady
He is no gypsy, my father, she said, but lord of these lands all over
And I will stay til my dying day, with my whistling gypsy rover
Ah dee doo ah dee doo da day, ah dee doo ah dee day dee
He whistled and he sang til the green woods rang
And he won the heart of a lady
Work Of The Weavers, The
Traditional
We're all met together here to sit and to crack
Wi' our glasses in our hands and our work upon our back
There's nae a trade among 'em that can mend or can mak
If it wasn't for the work of the weavers
If it was not for the weavers, what would you do?
You wouldn'a hae the clothes that's made of wool
You wouldn'a hae a coat of the black or the blue
If it was not for the work of the weavers
There's soldiers and there's sailors and glaziers and all
There's doctors and there's ministers and them that live by law
And our friends in Sooth America, though them we never saw
But we can they wear the work of the weavers
If it was not for the weavers, what would you do?
You wouldn'a hae the clothes that's made of wool
You wouldn'a hae a coat of the black or the blue
If it was not for the work of the weavers
Though weavin' is a trade that never can fail
As long as we need clothes for to keep another hale
So let us all be merry o'er a bicker of good ale
And we'll drink to the health of the weavers
If it was not for the weavers, what would you do?
You wouldn'a hae the clothes that's made of wool
You wouldn'a hae a coat of the black or the blue
If it was not for the work of the weavers
Sitting here with my mouth open, dj. I read every one of those lyrics. You could stage an entire musical presentation in honor of the occasion.
Listeners, I recall with fondness our little theater and the Irish presentation. Everyone had a song to sing. Mine was.
I'VE GOT RINGS ON MY FINGERS
(R.P. Weston and F.J. Barnes)
Now Jim O'Shea was cast away
Upon an Indian Isle.
The natives there they liked his hair,
They liked his Irish smile,
So made him chief Panjandrum,
The Nabob of them all.
They called him Jij-ji-boo Jhai,
And rigged him out so gay,
So he wrote to Dublin Bay,
To his sweetheart, just to say:
CHORUS:
Sure, I've got rings on my fingers, bells on my toes,
Elephants to ride upon, my little Irish Rose;
So come to your Nabob, and next Patrick's Day,
Be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo Jij-ji-boo J. O'Shea.
Across the sea went Rose Magee
To see her Nabob grand.
He sat within his palanquin,
And when she kissed his hand,
He led her to his harem,
Where he had wives galore.
She started shedding a tear;
Said he, "Now have no fear,
I'm keeping these wives here
Just for ornament, my dear."
In emerald green he robed his queen,
To share with him his throne.
'Mid eastern charms and waving palms
They'd shamrocks, Irish grown,
Sent all the way from Dublin
To Nabob J. O'Shea
But in his palace so fine
Should Rose for Ireland pine,
With smiles her face will shine
When he murmurs, "Sweetheart mine"
Repeat chorus.
I really need to get Smokingunne in here. He would love this.
My dad loved "I'll Take you Home Again Kathleen", and the chords are beautiful, but I think it was written by an American with an ear for Irish charm.
I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen
I'll take you home again, Kathleen
Across the ocean wild and wide
To where your heart has ever been
Since you were first my bonnie bride.
The roses all have left your cheek.
I've watched them fade away and die
Your voice is sad when e'er you speak
And tears bedim your loving eyes.
Oh! I will take you back, Kathleen
To where your heart will feel no pain
And when the fields are fresh and green
I'II take you to your home again!
I know you love me, Kathleen, dear
Your heart was ever fond and true.
I always feel when you are near
That life holds nothing, dear, but you.
The smiles that once you gave to me
I scarcely ever see them now
Though many, many times I see
A dark'ning shadow on your brow.
To that dear home beyond the sea
My Kathleen shall again return.
And when thy old friends welcome thee
Thy loving heart will cease to yearn.
Where laughs the little silver stream
Beside your mother's humble cot
And brightest rays of sunshine gleam
There all your grief will be forgot.
i've not heard that song letty, very nice
the tune for the Bard of Armagh, was used as the tune for The Streets of Laredo
The Streets Of Laredo
As I walked out on the streets of Laredo,
As I walked out in Laredo one day,
I spied a young cowboy all wrapped in white linen
Wrapped in white linen as cold as the clay.
'I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy'
These words he did say as I boldly stepped by,
'Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story,
I was shot in the breast and I know I must die.'
'Get six jolly cowboys to carry my coffin,
Get six pretty maidens to sing me a love song
Take me to the graveyard and lay the sod o'er me
For I'm a poor cowboy and I know I've done wrong.'
'It was once in the saddle I used to go dashing
Once in the saddle I used to go gay,
First down to the dram-house and then to the card house
Got shot in the breast, I am dying today.'
We beat the drum slowly and played the fife lowly,
And bitterly wept as we bore him along,
For we all loved our comrade, so brave, young and handsome,
We all loved our comrade although he'd done wrong.
Ah, Bob and dj. What delightful memories. thank you both.
I know my dad, wherever he is, must be humming that tune, Kathleen.
dj, The Streets of Laredo is definitely a cowboy's dirge, and the Bard of
Armagh, I'm sure would feel honored.
Listeners, we have everything that would keep our audience pleased and listening.
I must say goodnight.
The flowers nod,
The shadows creep,
A star creeps over the hill
The youngest lamb has gone to sleep,
The smallest bird is still.
The world is full of drowsy things,
And sweet with candle light,
When all the world has gone to sleep,
Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight.
from the great allan sherman
The Streets Of Miami
(Parody of "The Streets Of Laredo")
As I wandered out
On the streets of Miami
I said to meinself
This is some fancy town
I called up mein partner
And said, "Hello, Sammy
Go pack up your satchel
And mosey on down"
I got me a bunk
In the old Roney Plaza
With breakfast and dinner
Included of course
I caught 40 winks
On mein private piazza
Then I rented a pinto
From Hertz Rent-a-Horse
He rented a pinto from Hertz Rent-a-Horse
My partner flew down
On a non-scheduled airline
You never did see
Such a pale-looking man
I recognized him
From his receding hairline
He recognized me
From mein beautiful tan
Twas then that I heard
Fighting words from mein partner
He said, "Marvin, the Roney is no place to stay
I'm going to the Fontainebleau
Partner, it's mod'ner
And I'll charge to the firm 60 dollars a day"
He'll charge to the firm 60 dollars a day
I said to him, "Paleface,
You hanker for trouble
With the company checkbook
You quick on the draw"
He smiled and said, "Stranger,
For me that goes double
'Cause west of the Fontainebleau
I am the law"
Next morning
The whole Lincoln road was deserted
And somewhere a hi-fi was playing a tune
'Cause everyone knew
Someone's gonna be murdered
In a duel in the sun
On the stroke of high noon
A duel in the sun at the stroke of high noon
I took careful aim
With mein trusty revolver
The clock in the Fontainebleau
Struck 12 o'clock
I shot and Sam crumbled
Just like a piece halvah
And that's what they called
A bad day at Black Rock
They came with a posse
And took mein sixgun away
The crowd was too angry
To leave me in jail
The sherrif said, "Outlaw
I'm gon' let you run away
But don't ever be seen
South of Ft. Lauderdale"
So now I can never go back to Miami
And New York is so cold
That a person could die
I'd be better off dead
Like mein late partner Sammy
'Cause he's in that big Fontainebleau in the sky
'Cause he's in that big Fontainebleau in the sky!
