Federation South logo

Folk Dance Federation of California, South, Inc.

United States Song Words
Compiled by Dick Oakes


Clementine

        Chorus:
        Oh my darlin', oh my darlin', oh my darlin' Clementine,
        You are lost and gone forever. Dreadful sorry, Clementine.

In a cavern, in a canyon, excavatin' for a mine,
Lived a miner, forty-niner, and his daughter, Clementine.

        Chorus

Light she was, and like a fairy, and her shoes were number nine.
Herring boxes without topses, sandals were for Clementine.

        Chorus

Drove she ducklin's to the water every morning just at nine.
Hit her foot against a splinter; fell into the foamin' brine.

        Chorus

Ruby lips above the water, blowing bubbles soft and fine.
But, alas! I was no swimmer, so I lost my Clementine.

        Chorus

In a churchyard near the canyon, where the myrtle doth entwine,
There grow roses and other posies, fertilized by Clementine.

        Chorus

Then the miner, forty-niner, soon began to peak and pine.
Though in life I used to hug her, now she's dead – I draw the line!

        Chorus

Listen boy scouts, heed the warning to this tragic tale of mine.
Artificial respiration could have saved my Clementine.

        Chorus

How I missed her, how I missed her, how I missed my Clementine,
'Til I kissed her little sister, and forgot my Clementine.

        Chorus


Cotton-Eyed Joe
        Couples

Don't you remember, don't you know?
Don't you remember Cotton-Eyed Joe?
Cotton-Eyed Joe, he was some guy!
He was handsome and he wasn't shy.

      Chorus:
      / I hold my fiddle and I hold my bow
      Whilst I knock ol' Cotton-Eyed Joe! /

He stole my money and my gal so fair;
I should be mad but I don't care.
Made some more money, hid it in a log,
Got another honey, went fishin' with my dog.

      Chorus


Cotton-Eyed Joe
        Texas style

Now I'd o' been married a long time ago,
If it had not o' been for Cotton-Eyed Joe.

      Chorus:
      Where did 'e come from? Where did 'e go?
      Where did 'e come from, Cotton-Eyed Joe?

I gotta ball-peen hammer and a two-by-four.
Gonna whip the hell out o' Cotton-Eyed Joe.

      Chorus

      NOTE:
      The words are those on the Bellaire recording and were written by
      Isaac Payton Sweat (of The Sweat Band) and D. Howard,
      and were as sung at Gilley's (now closed), the famous "kicker"
      bar in Pasadena, Texas (thus "Texas Style").


Home on the Range

        Chorus:
        Home, home on the range,
        Where the deer and the antelope play.
        Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
        And the skies are not cloudy all day.

        Oh, give me a home where the buffalo roam,
        And the deer and the antelope play.
        Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
        And the skies are not cloudy all day.

How often at night when the heavens are bright,
With the light from the glitterin' stars,
Have I stood there amazed, and asked as I gazed,
If their glory exceeds that of ours.

        Chorus

Where the air is so pure, the zephyrs so free,
The breezes so balmy and light
That I would not exchange my home on the range
For all of the cities so bright.

        Chorus

Oh, give me a land where the bright diamond sand
Flows leisurely down the stream.
Where the graceful white swan goes glidin' along
Like a maid in a heavenly dream.

        Chorus


I'm My Own Grandpa

Many, many years ago, when I was twenty three,
I was married to a widow who was pretty as could be.
This widow had a grown-up daughter who had hair of red.
My father fell in love with her and soon they too were wed.

This made my dad my son-in-law and changed my very life,
For my daughter was my mother 'cause she was my father's wife.
To complicate the matter even though it brought me joy,
I soon became the father of a bouncing baby boy.

My little baby then became a brother-in-law to dad
And so became my uncle, though it made me very sad,
For if he was my uncle then that also made him my brother
Of the widow's grown-up daughter who, of course, was my stepmother.

Father's wife then had a son who kept them on the run
And he became my grand-child for he was my daughter's son.
My wife is now my mother's mother and it makes me blue
Because although she is my wife, she's my grandmother too.

Now if my wife is my grandmother, them I'm her grandchild
And every time I think of it, it nearly drives me wild,
For now I have become the strangest case you ever saw
As husband of my grandmother, I am my own grandpa.


Louisiana Saturday Night

      Chorus:
      Well ya' get down the fiddle
      And ya get down the bow
      Kick off your shoes
      And ya throw 'em on the floor.
      Dance in the kitchen
      Till the mornin' light:
      Louisiana Saturday night!

Waitin' in the front yard,
Sittin' on a log,
Single-shot rifle and a one-eyed dog.
Yonder come my kinfolk in the moonlight:
Louisiana Saturday night!

      Chorus

My brother Bill an' my other brother Jack,
Belly full o' beer and a possum in a sack.
Fifteen kids in the front porch light:
Louisiana Saturday night!

      Chorus

When the kinfolk leave an' the kids get fed,
Me an' my woman gonna slip off to bed.
Have a little fun when we turn out the lights:
Louisiana Saturday night!

      // Chorus //


Oh, Johnny!

Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! How you can love!
Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! Heavens above!
You make my sad heart jump with joy,
And when you're near I just can't sit still a minute.
I'm so, Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny!
Please tell me dear. What makes me love you so?
You're not handsome, it's true, but when I look at you,
I just, Oh, Johnny! Oh, Johnny! Oh!

NOTES:
Lyrics by Abe Olman and Ed Rose.
Recorded by Ella Fitzgerald.


Pop! Goes the Weasel

'Round and 'round the cobbler's bench
The monkey chased the weasel,
The monkey thought 'twas all in fun,
Pop! Goes the weasel.
 
A penny for a spool of thread
A penny for a needle,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! Goes the weasel.
 
A half a pound of tupenny rice,
A half a pound of treacle,
Mix it up and make it nice,
Pop! Goes the weasel.
 
Up and down the London road,
In and out of the Eagle,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! Goes the weasel.
 
I've no time to plead and pine,
I've no time to wheedle,
Kiss me quick and then I'm gone,
Pop! Goes the weasel.

NOTE:
1853, Arranged by Chas. Wiggs Esq., New York.

Other Lyrics:

'Round and 'round the cobbler's shop
The monkey chased the weasel,
In and out and 'round about
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle.
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
All around the Mulberry Bush,
The monkey chased the weasel.
The monkey stopped to pull up his sock,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
Put some pepper on its nose,
And you'll make it sneeze-l,
Catch it fast before it snaps,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
All around the Mulberry Bush,
The monkey chased the weasel.
The monkey stopped to scratch his nose,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
Up and down the city road,
In and out the Eagle,
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
Up and down the King's Highway,
In and out the Eagle,
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
For you may try to sew and sew,
But you'll never make anything regal,
That’s the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
The monkey and the weasel fought,
The weasel's really feeble,
The monkey punched him in the face,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
Every time when I come home,
The monkey's on the table,
Cracking nuts and eating spice
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
Every time when I come home
The monkey's on the table,
Take a stick and knock it off
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
Johnny's got the whooping cough,
Mary's got the measles,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
A penny for a spool of thread,
A penny for a needle,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
You may try to sew and sew,
And never make anything regal,
So roll it up and let it go,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
A painter would his lover to paint,
He stood before the easel,
The monkey jumped all over the paint,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
When his sweetheart she did laugh,
His temper got so lethal,
He tore the painting up in half,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
My son and I went to the fair,
We saw a lot of people,
We spent a lot of money there,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
I got sick from all the sun,
My sonny boy got the measles,
Still we had a lot of fun,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
I climbed up and down the coast,
To find a golden eagle,
I climbed the rocks and thought I was close,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
But, alas, I lost my way,
Saw nothing but a seagull,
I tore my pants and killed the day,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
I went to the grocery store,
I thought a little cheese'll,
Be good to catch a mouse on the floor,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
But the mouse was very bright,
He wasn't a mouse to wheedle,
He took the cheese and said "Good night,"
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
A penny for a cotton ball,
A penny for a needle,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
If you want to buy a pig,
Buy a pig with hairs on,
Every hair a penny a pair,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
I've no time to wait and sigh,
I've no time to tease-l,
Kiss me quick, I'm off, goodbye!,
Pop! goes the weasel.

Contemporary verses in the United States consist mainly of the following:

All around the cobbler's bench,
The monkey chased the weasel,
The monkey thought 'twas all in fun,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
All around the mulberry bush,
The monkey chased the weasel,
The monkey thought 'twas all in fun,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
All around the cobbler's bench,
The monkey chased the weasel,
The monkey thought 'twas all in good sport,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
All around the mulberry bush,
The monkey chased the weasel,
The monkey thought 'twas all in good sport,
Pop! goes the weasel.
 
A penny for a spool of thread,
A penny for a needle,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop! goes the weasel.


Salty Dog Rag

Away down yonder in the state of Arkansas
Where my great-grandpa met my great-grandma,
They drink apple cider and they get on a jag
And they dance all night to the Salty Dog Rag.
 
They play an old fiddle like you never heard before.
They play the only tune that they ever did know;
It's a ragtime ditty and the rhythm don't drag.
Now, here's the way you dance to the Salty Dog Rag!

      Chorus:
      One foot front, drag it back,
      Then you start to ball the jack.
      You shake, and you break, and then you sag.
      If your partner zigs, you're supposed to zag.
 
      Your heart is light, you tap your feet
      In rhythm with that ragtime beat.
      (Just) pack up your troubles in your ol' kit bag
      And dance all night to the Salty Dog Rag!

Away down South 'neath the old Southern moon,
The possum's up a tree and the hound's tree'd a coon.
They'll hitch up the buggy to a broken-down nag
And go out dancin' to the Salty Dog Rag.
 
They tune up the fiddle and they rosin up the bow.
They strike a C chord on the ol' banjo
Then holler, "Hang on, 'cause we ain't gonna drag!"
Now, here's the way you dance to the Salty Dog Rag!

      Chorus


Star Spangled Banner

Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!


Tennessee Wig Walk

I'm a bow-legged chick and I'm a knock-kneed hen,
Never been so happy since I don't know when.
I walk with a wiggle and a giggle and a squawk,
Doing the Tennessee Wig Walk.

Hear a tune on a fiddle on a hard wood floor,
You're all broke and weary and my back is sore.
I walk with a wiggle and a giggle and a squawk,
Doing the Tennessee Wig Walk.

Put your toes together, your knees apart,
Bend your back, get ready and start.
Clap your elbows just for luck,
Then you wiggle and you waddle like a baby duck.

Won't you dance with me, honey, tap your toes and glide,
And they row you together, side by side.
We walk with a wiggle and a giggle and a squawk,
Doing the Tennessee Wig Walk.

Walk with a wiggle, wiggle with a walk,
You're doing the Tennessee Wig Walk.


Virginia Reel

Everybody, forward and back,
Once more, forward and back.
Once around with the right elbow.
Two-hand swing and around you go.
Head couple sashay down,
And sashay back.
Head couple, the elbow reel.
A right to the middle and a left on the side,
A right to the middle and a reel on down.
Now meet in the middle and a sashay back.
Cast off and down you go.
Now raise that arch and raise it high,
Duck through and away you fly.

      NOTE:
      Call by Frank L. Kaltman (on Folkraft Recording)