That's the tape that we made, But I'm sad to say it never made the grade.
That was me, third guitar; I wonder where the others are.
I sold the guitar today... I never did play much anyway.
Vine Street.
We used to live there on Vine Street. She made perfume in the back of the room And me and my group, we'd sit out on the stoop And we'd play for her the songs she liked best To have us play, on Vine Street.
Vine Street, the crack of the backbeat on Vinestreet. Swingin' along on the wings of a song And I'll lie in, secure, self-righteous, and sure Why we've things to say that the people would pay to hear us play, on Vine Street.
By Palm Desert to market to buy. Tenderfoot up to date palms of the real estate. By Palm Desert springs often run dry.
I came west unto Hollywood, never-never land. Juxtaposed to B.B.D. and O. Beyond San Fernando on hillside manors on the banks of toxicity those below and those above the same.
Dreams are still born in Hollywood I don't understand. Just suppose the youngster knows he's had a good deal of fortune and up through the babble on the fair banks complicity, Buy your leave or stay beyond the game.
Palm Desert not fade away. Palm Desert I wish I could stay. Palm Desert sages abound. So head your head to the ground round.
Meanwhile in the wild west of Hollywood age is losing hold. Inasmuch as you are touched to have withstood by the very old search for the truth within the bounds of toxicity. Left unsung so I have strung the frame.
Widows walk ado walk on as in years of yore. The thought of you divided thus! It just maybe due to discuss in cold turkey mourning in the willows. Or was it the wind. You recollect we all suspect the mortal door will open the sore mind. The widows walk and wail among the willows. Widows walk ado walk on.
Widows face the future. Factories face the poor. The fact remains the peril strains the mind a bit. To have done and quit with it widows walk and wail among the willows. Widows walk ado walk on.
I'm guessing this is called civil, Regrettably strife. So lessen your appalled pall mall and middle life. Long last a hymn to Him to help you on your way.
Contented is the boat. By chance how forlorn the shore. I've meant to take the chance to turn you 'bout the floor so trim the prim the lame have rose to say widows walk and wail among the willows. Widows walk and do-si-do the willows. Widows walk ado walk on.
What's up Laurel Canyon, Hay. What is up in Laurel Canyon the seat of the beat to greet and eat at the heart of their companion way. That's up Laurel Canyon. And what is up the canyon will even eventually come down.
Tracks of the beaten in automobile pound the from nine to fivers round a long line of drivers wind to dine in the divers and dandy lie. One line bled in tandom from some new hatched deals.
Cracks in the heat and then caught by the wheel catch the country store feel for the hackamore crew view the crackerbare coterie standing by. One line bred randyrand and too few wretched meals.
He is not your run of the mill garden variety Alabama country faire Left on Silver Lake he keeps a small apartment top an Oriental food store there He returned from Alabama to see what he could see. Off the record he is hungry though he works hard in his Alabama country fair I should think he'd fade away the way that Bohemians often bare the frigid air He returned from Alabama to see what he could see. Constant commentary by the wayside Nowadays them country boys don't cotton much to one two three four Rest your team. Work out in the All Golden You will know why hayseeds go back to the country. Constant calm might still our stately union Nowadays a Yankee dread not take his time to wend to sea Forget to bear your arms in the All Golden You will know why hayseeds go back to the country Might as well not 'low for one more go round That's all folks. Them hayseeds go back to the country Ja git it? Alright.
Our lowly liquor lobby longs to back a road to old time songs. Biblebelts worn from here and after all were born in the know.
So rally round awhile Jim Crow for I thought I'd like to show they can recall the Alamo way down in old Mexico.
I left Academia amid sixty-two. Was it sixty-one scholar was cooled from the U. Doubtless more on sore wing than prayer I up and just withdrew to the wander round there.
I was there upon a four poster there. Mind tousled I came to bear some thoughts from the past amid a dash of influenza. And then I came to see in baggage the memories of truncated souvenirs. The war years. High moon I said high moon lighted high moon eye to my moon.
Far beyond the blue mist enveloped lawn the blanketed night comes on. The champagne is dead and gone. The forest around sensitive sound forest primeval. Through the panes cloud buttermilk war remains and twisted cross war refrains lunatic so high moon I said high moon lighted high moon eye to my moon.
Your age will most probably carry away the letters enveloped in carrion. Vague unpleasantries of the war. May your son's progenitorship of the state haphazardly help him to carry on. God send your son safe home to you. High Moon. You're eye to my moon.
What's up Laurel Canyon, Hay. What is up in Laurel Canyon the seat of the beat to greet and eat at the heart of their companion way. That's up Laurel Canyon. And what is up the canyon will even eventually come down.
Tracks of the beaten in automobile pound the from nine to fivers round a long line of drivers wind to dine in the divers and dandy lie. One line bled in tandom from some new hatched deals.
Cracks in the heat and then caught by the wheel catch the country store feel for the hackamore crew view the crackerbare coterie standing by. One line bred randyrand and too few wretched meals.
Strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. Brother has a long way to go maybe baby should know his cotton mouth is too slow for the song of the forgotten South, Just don't hang us up here.
Step by step by please though proletarian am I. By chance am you "wine git out de way o'de darkies." You'd better hustle up a storm to sing this Caucasian lullaby. Sleep oh my darling now sleep.
Draw freehand over Iron Curtain. Stalk up on the trim bamboo. To footridge the bullrushes certain to know law, American express. No Caucasian flair for flim-flam will do. Step by please step by.
Weigh the small advance. There is still a chance. Let's assume that we form a company men. No mention should the pass in revue of the show. Just understand that I prefer to be dead than red white or blue as I write sturdy crew. As you view these few Russians whose true dawn came to view long ago. So I think that you'd better strike up the band brother hand me another bowl of your soul. The song of the forgotten South just don't hang us up here. Here the unknown is at hand and not far from my heel a tarbaby feel for the Czar. For those who are lonely well the Black sea is callin' Georgia's Stalin has fallen so you all come here. We now are near to the end. If you stay with the show say we all had to go to hasten to jar the few nations too far gone to step by.
A Southwester in the yard invested with the garden and camped in concentration of a tall lilac to peel the rust off purple arbor. Time is not the main thought from under the rain wrought from roots that brought us coots to hoot and haul us all back to the prime ordeal. Dust off Pearl Harbor time.
Drinking in the nightclub with my bosom friend Who come down to spend the weekend When I look back who'd you think I see But one of my family Good heavens I shout Mama Jacob, what the France you doin' in a night club Same time the rock and roll start to play She hold onto a Yankee and break away
Of all the world's famous singers I have ever seen on the movie screen Of all the world's famous singers I have ever seen on the movie screen Lawrence Tibbett and Nelson Eddie Donald Nobis and Morton Downey Kenny Baker and Rudy Vallee But the crooning prodigy is Bing Crosby
Bing has a way of singing with his very heart and soul Which captivates the world His millions of listeners never fail to rejoice At his golden voice They love to hear his "La Di Dah Di dah" So sweetly with such harmony Thrilling the world with his melody
I wonder if you heard him singing the song "May I Be the One to Say I" I wonder if you heard again "Everytime It Rains It Rains Pennies from Heaven" But "Love Thy Neighbor" was a most thrilling song And "Git Along Little Dogie Git Along" Unanimously three cheers for Mr. Bing Crosby
We have captains like Filo James and Ellie Manette Arthur Byer, Neville Jules and Junior Pouchette Kenrick George, David Edwards I must mention Anthony Williams and Michigan They are giants musically And their names ought to go down in history The steelband music is really sweet You get that rhythm in every beat The steel the grater and the oil drum Will make you jump up and make you hum It's fantastic in every sense The music yet get from these instruments The dominant chord from the guitar man The prominent note on the tenor pan Music in the place But it's hell to keep up the pace with the bass
Among the singers on the moving screen The negroes are the best ever heard or seen Among the singers on the moving screen The negroes are best ever heard or seen Morton Downey went to a singing school But the four Mills brothers are sweet and cool And I ain't got nobody, nobody cares for me. Nobody cares. For those of you have seen "The Big Broadcast" Cab Calloway was unsurpassed From mystery pictures Bela Lugosi And relax with Mr.Crosby Mae West, of course, is a fair piece singer I still prefer to hear the Four Mills Brothers in "I ain't got nobody, nobody cares for me. Nobody cares"
At the age of nine my father said to me Son you're growing fine I'm very proud to see Soon a man you'll be with all the zest for life But your greatest test will be to choose a wife Be careful, son be careful. All that glitters isn't gold Be careful. Son be careful, movin' round toward the young and the old You must watch them twice That is my advice You'll find they're nice from far, but far from nice. Marriage is not a sport, it is no game to play Once they have you caught, it's hard to get away Behind every great man there's a woman, that's true But she has a hand in every downfall too Every lady is a woman though nature's act But every woman is not a lady and that is a fact! To comprehend the difference it will take a lot, For they both pretend to be what they are not.
John Jones, you son of a gun You call yourself a big big man And still you try to kill my hand John Jones, you son of a gun Well I don't like a man who tries to belittle me And I don't like a man who tries to kill my hand John Jones, you son of a gun
When Roosevelt came to the Land of the Hummingbird Shouts of welcome were heard "Hummingbird, Hummingbird, Hummingbird" His visit to their island is bound to be An epoch in local history Definitely marking the new era Between Trinidad and America We understand that the president had just been On a visit to Brazil and the Argentine With Mr. Cordell Hull in attendance There they took part in a peace conference Struck by his modest style We were intrigued by the famous Roosevelt smile In fact everybody was glad To welcome Roosevelt to Trinidad We were privileged to see the democratic President of the great republic With his charm and his genial personality And his wonderful urbanity To stop war and atrocity And make the world safe for democracy The greatest event of the century In the interest of suffering humanity Port of Spain threw open her gates To the President of the United States In fact everybody was glad To welcome Roosevelt to Trinidad