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BUM SONG, THE (Harry McClintock) Harry "Mac" McClintock - 1928 "Lazy" Larry (aka Frank Marvin) - 1928 "Hobo" Jack Turner (aka Ernest Hare) - 1928 Come all you jolly jokers and listen while I hum A story I'll relate to you of the great American bum >From the east to west, the north to south, like a swarm of bees they come They sleep in the dirt and wear a shirt that's dirty and full of crumbs Oh, it's early in the morning and the dew is off the ground The bum arises from his nest and gazes all around >From the boxcar and the haystack he gazes ev'rywhere He never turns back upon his tracks until he gets a square I beat my way from Frisco Bay to the rockbound coast of Maine To Canada and Mexico, then wandered back again I've met town clowns and harnessed bulls as tough as a cop could be And I've been in ev'ry calaboose in this land of liberty I've topped the spruce and worked the sluice and taken a turn at the plough I've searched for gold in the rain and cold and worked on a river scow I've dug the clam and built the dam and packed the elusive prune But my troubles pale when I hit the trail a-packin' my old balloon Oh, standin' in the railroad yards awaitin' for a train Waitin' for a westbound freight, but think it's all in vain Goin' east they're loaded, goin' west sealed tight I think we'll have to get aboard the fast express tonight Oh, lady, would you be kind enough to give me something to eat A piece of bread and butter and a ten foot slice of meat A piece of pie or custard to tickle me appetite But really I'm so hungry, I don't know where to sleep tonight SPOKEN: BUM: Good morning, mum LADY: Good morning, bum BUM: I just got in LADY: Yes, well you can just get out again BUM: But lady, I'm trav'lin' LADY: Well, keep right on travellin', who's keepin' ya? BUM: Honest, mum, I don't know where me next meal is comin' LADY: And did ya think this was an information bureau? BUM: Lady, haven't you a bite to eat in the house? LADY: I have that, and a six foot Irishman comin' home at five o'clock to eat it. On your way now. BUM: All right. Goodbye, mum. LADY: Goodbye, bum. Oh, sleeping against the station, tra-la-la-la-la-lation That's our recommendation, hurrah-herree-harrum For we are three bums, three jolly old bums, we live like royal Turks We have good luck in bummin' our chuck and we never bother to work I met a man the other day I never had met before He asked me if I wanted a job shovellin' iron ore I asked him what the wages were and he said, "Ten cents a ton" I said, "Old fellah, go chase yourself, I'd rather be on the bum" Oh, sleeping in the pokies, oggie-oggie-oggies Smokin' snipes and stogies, hurrah-herree-herrum For we are three bums, three jolly old bums, we live like royal Turks We have good luck in bummin' our chuck, God bless the man that works (Transcribed by Mel Priddle - July 2012)

    


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