WA2K Radio is now on the air

Neat morning song, edgar. Nice to get awake and functioning. Not Don McNeal, but I seem to recall that Breakfast Club.

While we wait let's hear a ballad of Jesse James. (not the one that I was thinking of, however)

BALLAD OF JESSE JAMES

Well dont you want to climb a mountain
yeah, dont you want to ride the river
drink from a magic fountain
give your woman all the love that you can give her
well dont you want to be an outlaw
dont you want to ride the range
dont you want to be an outlaw children
just like jesse, like jesse james

well now dont you want to swim the ocean
dont you want to climb the highest tree
drink some of momma's lovin' potion
get your woman till she just cant see
dont you want to be an outlaw
just a poor boy out on the skids
dont you want to be an outlaw children
just like billy, just like billy the kid

well now billy he was a bad boy, he won the wild west
by the year of 21, as many notches on his gun
but someone laid him to an early rest

dont you want to climb a mountain
dont you want to ride the river
drink from a magic fountain
give your woman all the love that you can give her
dont you want to be an outlaw
dont you want to ride the range
dont you want to be an outlaw children
just like jesse

guitar solo

Jesse he was a bad boy, he won the wild west
as many notches on his gun as the years of 21
but someone laid him to an early rest

dont you want to climb a mountain
dont you want to ride the river
drink from a magic fountain
give your woman all the love that you can give her
dont you want to be an outlaw
dont you want to ride the range
dont you want to be an outlaw children
just like jesse, like jesse james
well dont you want to be an outlaw
dont you want to be an outlaw

just like jesse, just like jesse, just like jesse james

Jesse James

Jesse James was a lad that killed many a man,
He robbed the Danville train,
He stole from the rich and he gave to the poor,
He'd a hand and a heart and a brain.

CHORUS:
Poor Jesse had a wife to mourn for his life,
Three children, they were brave;
But the dirty little coward that shot Mr. Howard
Has laid Jesse James in his grave.
It was Robert Ford, that dirty little coward,
I wonder how he does feel,
For he ate of Jesse's bread and he slept in Jesse's bed,
Then he laid poor Jesse in his grave.

Jesse was a man, a friend to the poor,
He'd never see a man suffer pain,;
And with his brother Frank, he robbed the Chicago bank,
And stopped the Glendale train.

It was on a Wednesday night and the moon was shining bright,
They robbed the Glendale train,
And the people they did say for many miles away,
It was robbed by Frank and Jesse James.

lt was his brother Frank that robbed the Gallatin bank,
And carried the money from the town;
lt was in this very place that they had a little race,
For they shot Captain Sheets to the ground.

They went to the crossing not very far from there,
And there they did the same;
With the agent on his knees, he delivered up the keys
To the outlaws, Frank and Jesse James.

It was on Saturday night and Jesse was at home
Talking with his family brave,
Robert Ford came along like a thief in the night
And laid poor Jesse in his grave.

The people held their breath when they heard of Jesse's death,
And wondered how he ever came to die.
It was one of the gang called little Robert Ford,
He shot poor Jesse on the sly.

Jesse went to rest with his hand on his breast,
The devil will be upon his knee.
He was born one day in the county of Clay,
And he came from a solitary race.

This song was made by Billy Gashade
As soon as the news did arrive;
He said there was no man with the law in his hand
Who could take Jesse James when alive.

How about that guy who walked softly, but rode rough and really enjoyed the coffee at a Tennessee hotel.

edgar, that's the ballad that I was thinking of. I used to have the best book with all the oldies in it, but I lent it to someone, and never got it back.

Hey, Raggedy:

Charge! That's the one, youngun

A Russian scientist and a Czechoslovakian scientist had spent their
lives studying the grizzly bear. Each year they petitioned their
respective governments to allow them to go to Yellowstone to study the
bears.

Finally their request was granted, and they immediately flew to
Yellowstone.

They reported to the ranger station and were told that it was the
grizzly mating season and it was too dangerous to go out and study the
animals.

They pleaded that this was their only chance, and so finally the ranger
relented. The Russian and the Czech were given portable phones and told
to report in every day.

For several days they called in, and then nothing was heard from the two
scientists. The rangers mounted a search party and found the camp
completely ravaged, with no sign of the missing men. Following the
trails of a male and a female bear, they finally caught up with the
female. Fearing an international incident, they decided they must kill
the animal to find out if she had eaten the scientist.

They killed the female and opened the stomach to find the remains of the
Russian. One ranger turned to the other
and said,

"You know what this means, don't you?"

The other ranger responded . . .

"I guess it means the Czech's in the male."

<groan>Very funny, Boston. Like Teddy, it sounds like a woman with a credit card.

Now here's a song to the one who never returned my book:

My Heart Lyrics




Sweetheart of mine, I've sent you a valentine.
Sweetheart of mine, it's more than a valentine.
Be careful, it's my heart.
It's not my watch you're holding, it's my heart.
It's not the note I sent you that you quickly burned.
It's not the book I lent you that you never returned.
Remember it's my heart.
The heart with which so willingly I part.
It's yours to take to keep or break,
But please, before you start,
Be careful, it's my heart.

Hmmm. No sign of Europe.

We're too busy with the food parcels.

Good afternoon, McTag. Tell us about your benevolent project. We are all wanting to hear about England and how they're responding. This time it's bundles FROM Britain. <smile>

Sorry I had to be absent. I ran out of brown paper, and now I have to go away again and get some string and some sealing wax.

McTag, you are a wonder, right listeners?

"...then up he got, and home did trot as fast as he could caper, he went to bed and covered his head with vinegar and brown paper...."

For McTag:

I'll String Along With You Lyrics
by Diana Krall


You may not be an angel
Cause angels are so few
But until the day that one comes along
I'll string along with you

I looking for an angel
To sing my love song to
And until the day that one comes along
I'll sing my song to you

For every little fault that you have
Say I've got three or four
The human little faults you do have
Just make me love you more

You may not be an angel
But still I'm sure you'll do
So until the day that one comes along
I'll string along with you

rexred has a hangover

Oh, my Gawd, Rex. I was concerned about you. A hangover you say?

Well, here's a request that someone called in from Maine.


Now, I'm just a simple guy
But there's one thing sure as shootin'
I hate those folks that think that they're
So doggone high fa lutin
I'd be the same in Hollywood
Or right in my own kitchen
I believe in fussin' when you're mad
And scratchin' when you're itchin'.

CHORUS
I'm a plain, old country boy
A corn-bread lovin' country boy
I raise cain on Saturday
But I go to church on Sunday
I'm a plain, old country boy
A corn-bread lovin' country boy
I'll be lookin' over that old grey mule
When the sun comes up on Monday.

Where I come from, opportunities, they never were too good
We never had much money, but we done the best we could
Ma doctored me from youngin-hood, with Epson salts and Iodine
Made my diapers out of old feed sacks, my 'spenders out of plow lines.

CHORUS

Every time the preacher called, Ma always fixed a chicken
If I'd reach for a drumstick, I was sure to get a lickin'
She always saved two parts for me, But I had to shut my mouth
T'was the gizzard and the North end of a chicken flyin' South.

CHORUS

That ought to help your head, Red. <smile>

Someone should have reminded McTag to get some cabbages when he goes out. Well, never mind. Be back later.

Of cabbages and kings, edgar?

The Walrus and the Carpenter

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright --
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done --
'It's very rude of him.' she said,
'To come and spoil the fun!'

The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead --
There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
'If this were only cleared away,'
They said, 'it would be grand.'

'If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
'That they could get it clear?'
'I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.

'O Oysters, come and walk with us!
The Walrus did beseech.
'A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head --
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.

Out four young Oysters hurried up.
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat --
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more --
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.

'The time has come,' the Walrus said,
'To talk of many things:
Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing wax --
Of cabbages -- and kings --
And why the sea is boiling hot --
And whether pigs have wings.'

'But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
'Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!'
'No hurry!' said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.

'A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
'Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed --
Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed.'

'But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
'After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!'
'The night is fine,' the Walrus said,
'Do you admire the view?'

'It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
'Cut us another slice-
I wish you were not quite so deaf-
I've had to ask you twice!'

'It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
'To play them such a trick.
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
'The butter's spread too thick!'

'I weep for you,'the Walrus said:
'I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.

'O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
'You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none --
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.

-- Lewis Carroll

While we are waiting for Europe to tune in, Here's a little news update:


Gas Prices Drive Man to Commute by Horse Sun Sep 4, 9:07 PM ET



MINOT, N.D. - Jim Jundt was so determined to rein in his spending on gasoline that he got out of bed early and rode his 14-year-old quarterhorse mare to work.


Jundt lives 15 miles south of Minot and works as a mechanic at Goodyear Tire & Auto Service in the city.

He said he and his co-workers had been talking about rising fuel prices, and he joked that he would ride his horse to work if gasoline ever hit $3 a gallon.

His co-workers laughed, but when the price at the pump soared to $3.20 last week, Jundt headed for the barn.

He said he was only five minutes late riding his mare, Patty, to work.

While he worked, Patty waited patiently, eating hay out of the back of a truck.

Get a horse! <smile>

Brown paper cabbages tied up with string
There are a few of my favourite things

Raindrops on roses
And whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles
And warm woollen mittens
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings....

Snow-bells and sleigh bells
And schnitzel with noodles...
And Letty's poetry, what joy it brings
These are a few of my favourite things

Good Morning Good Morning

Nothing to do to save his life call his wife in
Nothing to say but what a day how's your boy been
Nothing to do it's up to you
I've got nothing to say but it's O.K.
Good morning, good morning...
Going to work don't want to go feeling low down
Heading for home you start to roam then you're in town
Everybody knows there's nothing doing
Everything is closed it's like a ruin
Everyone you see is half asleep.
And you're on your own you're in the street
Good morning, good morning...
After a while you start to smile now you feel cool.
Then you decide to take a walk by the old school.
Nothing has changed it's still the same
I've got nothing to say but it's O.K.
Good morning, good morning...
People running round it's five o'clock.
Everywhere in town is getting dark.
Everyone you see is full of life.
It's time for tea and meet the wife.
Somebody needs to know the time, glad that I'm here.
Watching the skirts you start to flirt now you're in gear.
Go to a show you hope she goes.
I've got nothing to say but it's O.K.
Good morning, good morning

Beatles

McTag. I love your variations. Thanks, Brit, for the dear remark. Can you imagine, listeners, what it would be like for a kid to find a brown paper cabbage in his stocking on Christmas morn?

Rex, Thanks, honey, for the Good Morning song this afternoon. <smile>

Hope your head of cabbage is all better.

BOIL THEM CABBAGE DOWN Traditional

Chorus:
Boil them cabbage down, boys,
Turn them hoecakes 'round,
Only song that I can sing is
Boil them cabbage down.

Raccoon has a bushy tail,
Possum's tail is bare.
Rabbit ain't got no tail at all but a
Little bitty bunch o' hair.
(Chorus)

Raccoon and the possum,
Racin' cross the prairie.
Raccoon ask the possum,
Did she want to marry.
(Chorus)

Possum is a cunnin' thing,
Travels in the dark,
Never thinks to curl her tail
'Til she hears ol' Rover bark.
(Chorus)

Possum up a 'simmon tree,
Raccoon on the ground,
Raccoon say to the possum,
"Won't you shake them 'simmons down?"
(Chorus)

Jaybird died of the whoopin' cough,
Sparrow died of the colic.
'Long come a frog with a fiddle on his back
Inquirin' his way to the frolic.
(Chorus)

Speaking of frogs, Where's Francis?

One fine Sunday mornin'
When church bells were ringin'
To call decent folk to their prayin' and singin'
A bunch of young ruffians
Who'd dodged Sunday school
Were lookin' about for some mischief to do.


Can't remember anymore.Learned on my Daddy's knee.Anybody know the rest or could finish it themselves?My Mummy disapproved.

I think the first line of 2nd verse rhymed with stick.