The Second-Hand Muse Born in a Whorehouse [B ] Born in a factory, work like a slave, Women and whiskey are all that I crave. Breaking in windows, knocking down doors, Turning a Tri-Delt into a dirty old whore. Oh, what a pleasure, drunk off my ass, Banging some Tri-Delt, while tipping my glass. Beautiful Tri-Delt, come back to me, For I am your pimp and I'll do you for free. Born in a mountain, raised in a cave. Women and whiskey are all that I crave. Breaking in windows, knocking down doors, Turning a Tri-Delt into a dirty old whore. Oh, what a pleasure, drunk off my rear, Loving my baby, while drinking my beer. Breaking in windows, knocking down doors, Turning a Tri-Delt into a dirty old whore. From the "Songbook of Sigma Pi," compiled at UCLA 1990-1992, courtesy of Ms. Kelly Besser. "Tri-Delts" are members of the Delta Delta Delta sorority. The Jailer's Song In my prison cell I sit˙20with my fingers dipped in shit, While the mice shoot craps upon the floor! If you want to hear them fart, you just spread their legs apart And they'll blow you through the keyhole in the door! In the prison cell I sit with my shirt-tail soaked with shit, And my balls a-hanging loose upon the floor! And the women, as they pass, shoot peanuts up my ass. I don't wanna go to prison any more! J. Kenneth Larson in his typescript "Barnyard Folklore of Southeastern Idaho," p. 5, did not indicate a tune for this. It may have been sung to the music of the verse of George Frederic Root's 1864 song "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp" -- the identical first lines to be trusted. Root's original verses, however, do not use the telltale internal rhymes of the first and third lines. The second stanza is a floater, appearing frequently as a last, fateful verse in "Ball of Yarn." Darling, Let Me Tie Your Garter Darling, let me tie your garter, Up above your snow white knee, And if my hand should stray up farther, Darling, don't get sore at me. This quatrain, from the Canfield collection of 1926, is sung to the melody of the 1873 popular song by Eben Rexford and Hart Pease Danks, "Silver Threads Among the Gold." Home on the Range Oh, give me a home, where the beer bottles foam, Where with blondes and brunettes I can play, Where seldom is heard a discouraging word, 'Cause my wife is out working all day. Published first in 1873, the art song upon which the parody is modeled is considered a traditional American song. It isn't. The parody is. It was gathered by actor and dialect coach Robert Easton from a member of the motion picture industry. My Little Gray Bed In my little gray bed at the Ritz, Why, I throw all the men into fits. We have cocktails at four, And at six we have more, And then they see things that they ne'er saw before. If you like, come to seven-o-four, Don't knock, just push open the door. Oh, the men may come strong But they never last long In my little gray bed at the Ritz. Another from the Canfield collection of 1926, this is set to the melody of ""My Little Gray Home in the West." My Grandfather's Cock Ta-Ra-Ra Boom De Ay [ E ] Professor Emeritus of History Rowland Berthoff, of Washington University, St. Louis, sent the following in a letter dated January 25, 1996: ------------ is a friend of mine; He will blow me any time, For a nickel or a dime, Fifteen cents for overtime. Sung to the tune of "Ta-Ra-Ra Boom-De-Ay," Berthoff wrote, this was "overheard from an enlisted man (naming his buddy, only in jest), early 1944. The singer was killed in 1945; the other died recently." F. Markoe Rivinus of Philadelphia sang this prior to 1940: All dewey was the morning Upon the first of May And Dewey was our admiral Down in Manila Bay. Our Dewey sank the Spanish fleet Beneath the ocean blue. But do we feel discouraged? I do not think we do! Too rah rah boom-de-ay! Have you had yours today? I had some yesterday. I need some more today. Casey Got Hit with a Bucket of Shit Old Aunt Sally In the Cottage Next to Mine Sweet Adeline Mother The Motherfucker's Ball In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree In the shade of the old apple tree, Twas there that she gave it to me. Syphilis and clap, Bubu mayhap, Crab lice and dirty chancree. In the shade of the old apple tree, There will be no more fucking for me. With the palm of my hand, I'll know pleasure grand, In the shade of the old apple tree. This is from the Canfield collection of 1926. By the Light of a Flickering Match Put on Your Old Gray Bustle Put on your old rubber bonnet, With some Vaseline upon it, For you cannot have it any other way, For it wouldn't do a lady To have a little baby A week before her wedding day. This caution is from the Canfield collection, dated to 1926. Let Me Ball You Sweetheart [Down in Arizona] This is a parody on "Ragtime Cowboy Joe," written by Lewis Muir, Grant Clarke and Maurice Abrahams, and published in 1912. It was contributed to the Hubert Canfield collection by a Canadian informant in April, 1926. Down in Arizona a monkey fucked a cat And all the poor old cat could do Was fuck the monkey back, Singing "Ragtime Cowboy Joe." John Saw a Tulip [ B ] If you'll wear a condom, A big rubber condom, I'll take off my B.V.D.'s You can caress me, You can undress me, You can go as far as you please. Play with it, dearie, And make it feel cheery, It's down where the short hair grows. You can come 'round on Sunday And stay until Monday If you'll wear that big rubber hose. A parody on "When You Wore a Tulip" from the Canfield collection of 1926. St. Louis Woman Jada In That Little Pink Nightie [ B ] There is persistence in oral tradition, even when the song is a more or less recently composed parody. Muse II, p. 282, had a version of this from Salinas, California, circa 1950. Ten years before, at Oberlin College, Ohio, Rowland Berthoff sang it this way: That little blue nightie of mine; When I wore it I always felt fine. I remember the night, I was too tired to fight; When you told me you loved me, That made it all right. Now a long time has passed since that night; My little blue nightie's too tight. I'll always adore it, but dammit, you tore it, That little blue nightie of mine. Carolina in the Morning [C] The Canfield collection of 1926 offers this third parody of the song originally published in 1922: Once I met a fella, And his testicles were yella, In the morning. I says most emphatic "You're looking too gysmatic, In the morning. It is too late for screwing, You masturbate, I see. What you have been doing, Doesn't appeal to me." He says, "There are things finer Than a juicy tight vagina, In the morning. For the cunt that softly squeezes Brings disaster and diseases, In the morning. But the greatest pleasure That a fellow can get, Is to wake up and find That his sheets are all wet. [That his dreams have been wet.] In the vening I was dreaming, And my bed was full of semen. In the morning! Canfield's typescript has the alternative line written in, suggesting that he had two variants of this parody. Oh, Mister Gallagher Vaudevillians Ed Gallagher and Al Shean introduced their signature song in Ziegfeld Follies of 1922. This parody, from the Hubert Canfield collection, can be firmly dated to 1926. "Oh, Mister Gallagher, oh, Mister Gallagher, I see your little Nell is fond of pets. She has a rabbit and a dog, A turtle and a frog, And two cockatoos that know their alphabets." "Oh, Mister Shean, oh, Mister Shean, Her choicest pet I think you've never seen. She keeps it out of sight, She lets me play with it at night." "A Persian kitten, Mr. Gallagher?" "Just plain pussy, Mr. Shean." "Oh, Mister Gallagher, oh, Mister Gallagher, I love to fish the brooks for perch and trout. This sylvan solitude Does my poet's nature good. I feel inclined to dance around and shout." "Oh, Mister Shean, oh, Mister Shean, Keep quiet, for a funny thing I've seen. A man sitting in the sand, A long pole in his hand." "Bait casting, Mister Gallagher?" "Masturbating, Mister Sheen." "Oh, Mister Gallagher, oh, Mister Gallagher, Your sweetie called last night upon the phone. Said she felt inclined to play, But her husband was away, And she was very lonesome all alone." "Oh, Mister Shean, oh, Mister Shean, I hurried off to cheer my darling queen. I had a lot of power, And came in half an hour." "In your speedster, Mister Gallagher?" "On her sofa, Mister Shean!" "Oh, Mister Gallagher, oh, Mister Gallagher, The country surely is a lovely place. The air so fresh and pure. The maidens all demure, And everyone presents a smiling face." "Oh, Mister Shean, oh, Mister Shean, I spent a summer once where fields were green. The farmer's name was Water, And he had a charming daughter." "Do any farming, Mister Gallagher?" "Only plowing, Mister Shean." Goodby-ee This unique text was sent to Hubert Canfield in 1926 by a Canadian correspondent whose name seems not to have been preserved. The contributor indicated it is "another version of 'Goodbyee.'" Note the odd spelling, suggesting that in the original song, the second syllable is extended. Just what original song this parodies is not clear, however. Goodbyee, goodbyee, Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eyee. Tho' it's hard to part, I know, I am tickled to death to go. Goodbyee, goodbyee, There's a silver lining in the skyee. "Oh, I say, Mrs. Brown, If your daughter's out of town, Will you take [it?] in your hand Or in your eyee?" My Blue Bedroom Doodle-De-Doo Pubic Hair Bye Bye Cherry I've Got a Start on a Twelve-Inch Hard-on Minnie the Mermaid The Object of My Affection These Foolish Things Hot Vagina The Last Time I Saw Paris You Are My Sunshine Sunday, Monday and Always On Top of Old Smokey Secret Love Hey, Roll Me Over Foam Rubber Pads The S & M Man Clearly, the shock threshold has risen in recent years. This is a deliberate attempt to "gross out" the listeners, in a contest perhaps for bad taste. It is a parody of the 1961 country and western song "Candy Man," written by Fred Neil and Beverly Ross, and sung by Ray Orbison. [ A ] INSERT ZIPPY HASH TEXT, pp. 109 ff. [ B ] The oral currency of this was in some question until the editor received copies, courtesy of Ms. Kelly Besser, of the "The Songbook of Sigma Pi, Upsilon Chapter," and the Phi Psi fraternity songbook, both from UCLA, circa 1991-1992. Though not clear from the typescript texts, this is probably sung as a leader-chorus, the chorus repeating the first and the second lines. Who can take his organ? Who can take his organ? Dip it in Vaseline? Dip it in Vaseline? Ram it up inside you Till it tickles your spleen? Chorus: The S and M man, the S and M man, The S and M man 'cause he mixes it with love And makes the hurtin' feel good, The hurtin' feel good. Who can take your right wrist? Who can take your right wrist? Cuff it to a stool? Cuff it to a stool? Spin you around And whip you with his tool? Who can take a dildo, Boil it till it's hot, Cover it with oil And ram it up your twat? Who can take a chain saw, Shove it up your hole, Turn the fucker on And make a taco casserole? Who can take a cheese grater, Rub it on your tits, Collect 'em all together And eat the little bits? Who can take some hot wax, Pour it on your pubes, Light a fuckin' match And watch you run to get ice cubes? Birth Control The impish mood perseveres in oral tradition, judging from this comparatively recent parody of "Yesterday," the John Lennon and Paul McCartney song of 1965. [ A ] Birth control, it's enough to save your girlfriend's soul, When you're crawling up inside her hole. Oh, I believe in birth control. Pregnancy. There's a shotgun hanging over me. Now I have to face expectancy. Oh, I believe in birth control. Chorus: Why'd I have to come. I don't know, she wouldn't blow. I stayed in too long Now I long for birth control. Syphilis, it all started with a simple kiss. Now it hurts each time I take a piss. Oh, I've contracted syphilis. Leprosy, all my body parts are falling off of me. I'm not half the man I used to be. Oh, I've contracted leprosy. From the Phi Psi fraternity songbook current at UCLA in 1991-1992, a copy of which was furnished by Ms. Kelly Besser. [ B ] An otherwise identical text from "The Songbook of Sigma Pi, Upsilon Chapter," dated 1992, but apparently compiled in 1990, adds this verse and second chorus between the "syphilis" and "leprosy" stanzas of the "A" text. The songbook was provided by Ms. Kelly Besser. Yesterday, my dick was always coming out to play. Now it needs a week just to hide away. Oh, I believe in yesterday. Second Chorus: Why her box was sick, I don't know. She wouldn't say. Now my dripping prick Won't get thick, like yesterday.