Hop in the Vat

from by Sycamore Smith

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Meet me on the log jam on Kerosene Creek
Where the forest lies waiting in a heap
The logs rub together and it burns for weeks
And the black clouds choke you while you sleep
On the God-forsaken plains in the middle of the west
There's a town called Yodel-ay-hee Hole
You get there by hopping from crest to crest
Of the amber waves as they roll
How can a man ride the back of a horse
When he can't suck the breath from a cat?
The answer is found as a matter of course
Once you drop your drawers and hop in the vat
A gladiator raider went hunting in the swamp
Brandishing a lariat and maul
He bumped into a gator and the gator went "chomp"
And swallowed him, chariot and all
In a tavern by a canyon down in Guillotine Gulch
A miner 49er drinks a shot
The night before he shoveled up a talking skull
That brainless bone said "I don't think, therefore I'm not"
If your dander is up and you're feeling quite bold
Then do a chorus line kick in the sleet
But if dancing on ice seems too frightfully cold
Then wear a nice pair of wigs on your feet
I'm like an ox in your china shop shack
Knocking plates on the floor when I curtsy
My tutu is tight and it rides up my back
And it tangles my teacups and hurts me


from Grosspapa, released May 29, 2017
Lyrics by Sycamore Smith & Douglass Lynott


tags: folk Marquette


all rights reserved


Sycamore Smith Marquette, Michigan

I love it when you call me grosspapa

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