The Gay Caballero

This folk song was popularized -- in an expurgated version -- by a 1929 recording by Frank Crumit.  Crumit's copyright notwithstanding, the song was in oral tradition before his adaptation, and remained so after.  The variety and inventiveness of the texts is unusual in so straightforward a narrative.

[ C ]

There once lived a gay young Lothario,
Who dwelt in a far-off castillio,
Who was stuck on his tra-la-la-lillio
And the works of his tweedle-dum-dee.

One night he went to the theatrio,
And met there a charming senorio [sic].
He showed her his tra-la-la-lillio
And the works of his tweedle-dum-dee.

"Disgusting," cried out the senorio,
"For I am the virgin Clarissio.
I've no use for your tra-la-la-lillio
Or the works of your tweedle-dum-dee."

He took her to his castillio,
And laid her upon a soft pillio,
And he showed her his tra-la-la-lillio
And the works of his tweedle-dum-dee.

"Delightful," cried out the senorio.
"Though I am the virgin Clarissio,
I am stuck on your tra-la-la-lillio
And the works of your tweedle-dum-dee."

Then he went to see the doctorio,
Who said, "You've got the siffilio
In your handsome tra-la-lalillio
And the works of your tweedle-dum-dee."

Now he sits in his far-off castillio,
With a handful of cotton battilio,
Swabbing off his tra-la-la-lillio
And the works of his tweedle-dum-dee.

The Canfield collection has two other versions, both of five stanzas.

[ D ]

177.  THE GAY CABALLERO
Melody--The Gay Caballero

Oh, I am a gay caballero,
Going from Rio de Janeiro,
With an exceedingly long latraballee,
And two fine latraballeros.

I went down to Tijuana,
Exceedingly fine Tijuana,
With my exceedingly long latraballee,
And my two fine latraballeros.

I met a gay senorita,
Exceedingly gay senorita,
She wanted to play with my latraballee,
And with one of my latraballeros. 

Oh, now I've got the clapito,
Exceedingly painful clapito,
Right on the end of my latraballee,
And on one of my latraballeros.

I went to see a medico,
Exceedingly fine medico,
He looked at the end of my latraballee,
And at one of my latraballeros.

He took out a long stiletto,
Exceedingly long stiletto,
He cut off the end of my latraballee,
And one of my latraballeros.

And now I'm a sad caballero,
Returning to Rio de Janiero,
Minus the end of my latraballee,
And one of my latraballeros.

At night I lay on my pillow,
Seeking to finger my willow,
All I find there is a handful of hair,
And one dried-up latraballero.

From Paul Woodford, "Hash Hymns II" (Honolulu, Hawaii, 1994)