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Harold's Old Time Radio
Sons of the Pioneers 47-xx-xx (105) First Song - Blow Ye Winds, Heigh Ho
00:14:23
Sons of the Pioneers 47-xx-xx (105) First Song - Blow Ye Winds, Heigh Ho
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See them tumbling down? I do. This is Bob Nolan and all the Sons of the Pioneers. Well, stand by, you landlubbers. Let's shake off the dust for a change and pick up a little salt. So clear the gangway and haul in the lines. Those bow legs have got to be sea legs now. A capital ship for an ocean trip Was the walloping window blind no wind that blew dismayed her crew or troubled the captain's mind the man at the wheel was made to feel contempt for the wildest blow it often appeared when the gale had cleared had he been in his bunk below and the boatswain's mate was very sedate yet fond of amusement too he played hopscotch with the starboard watch while the captain tickled his crew and the gunner we had was apparently mad for he sat on the after rail and he fired a salute in the captain's foot in the teeth of the booming gale Then blow you in Sigh oh, a roll Then I will go I'll stay no more on England's shore so let the music play I I'm off on the morning train I'll cross the raging Maine I'm off to my love with a boxing glove 10,000 miles away the captain sat on the commodore's hat and he dined in a royal way of toasted pigs and pickled pigs and gunnery bread each day and the cook was Dutch and behaved as such for that he fed the crew Was a number of tons of hot cross buns Served up with sugar and glue all nautical pride we laid aside and we ran the ship ashore on the gulpy isles where the poo boo smiles and the rubbledy ugdugs roar and we sat on the edge of a sandy ledge and shot at the whistling bee and the cinnamon bats wore waterproof hats as they dipped in the shiny sea so blowy winds high O a rove and I will go I'll stay no more on England shore so let the music play I'm off on the morning train across the raging Maine I'm off to my love with a boxing glove 10,000 miles away on Rutbuck park from morn till dark we dined till we all had grown uncommonly shunk When a Chinese junk came up from the torrid zone she was chubby and square but we didn't much care so we cheerily put to sea and we left all the crew at the junk to chew on the bark of the rugbug tree so blowy winds I owe a rove and I will go I'll stay no more on England's shore so let the music play I'm off on the morning train I'll cross the raging Maine I'm off to my love with a boxing glove 10,000 miles away Ah, the capital ship. All right, Bob. A short cruise, but a happy one. Yes, it was. You know, Bob, there's something about the sea that always gets under my skin. Oh, Sounds pretty serious, Pat. Does it itch or burn? Maybe it's barnacles. Yeah, good look. Foggy barnacles are shellfish that attach themselves to something hard. Like Anka rock or a plate of steel. Yeah, go on. They don't bother nothing alive, only something. Well, something dead. Well, you've been getting by the undertaker a long time. Yeah, but you can't fool a no, Barney. They'll catch up with you every time. If you don't want me to catch up with you, Foghorn far, you'd better head for the border. Aha. You took the words right out of my mouth there, Patrick. We're all heading for the border right now. We're bound for the Rio Grande where the sleepy Rio's blowing and the longhorn cattle's flowing where the purple sage is growing that's the only place I long for where the lazy crowds are sailing and the wild coyote is wailing get along I'm bound for the Rio Grande and there's a maze so fair with raven hair waving there to greet this bronco busting cowboy when they're round birthdays are over Here comes your cowboy rover get along I'm bound for the Rio Grande Way down south by the borderline A pretty little girl I've got in mind Is waitin', waitin', waitin' she said last year she'd sure be mine I guess right now is a pretty good time for maiden. Maiden. Maiden. Saddleback's on old man's back and strapped against his hide sun is bright, the world's all right so now away I'll ride To meet the gal by the borderline and tell her it's just this waste of time I'm Hating I'm hating Hatin where the sleepy Rio's flowin' and the longhorn cattle's flowin' where the purple sage is growin' that's the only place I long for where the lazy clouds are sailing and the wild coyote is wailin' get along I'm bound for the Rio grand and there's a mace old fair with raven hair waiting there to greet this bronco bustin cowbo when the roundup days are over Here comes your cowboy rover get along I'm bound for the Rio grand and now this message from our sponsor, Sam SA now, you may think you can cross your bridges before you get to them. But more often you got to wait your turn and you get across the best way you can. Especially if it's one wide river. One wide river to cross Now. Foghorn. Oh, the river of Jordan is so wide One more river to cross I don't know how to get on the other side One more river to cross oh, wasn't that wide river river of Jordan Long wide river there's one more river to cross Satan am a snake in the grave One more river to cross if you don't mind he'll get you at one more river to cross oh, wasn't that wide river river of Jordan law Wide river there's one more river to cross Way down yonder on the River Nile One more river to cross the dog gone thankful a crocodile One more river to cross oh, on that wide river Railroad Jordan More wide river there's one more river to cross One more river to cross One more river to cross Quick, boys, fetch me my water wing. That's drossing there, Foggy. Hope you didn't get those pipes of yours wet, though. Yeah, it'd sure be tough if he lost that bullfrog accent of his. You know, Foggy's the only guy I ever heard of that could make a living croaking. Wait a minute. Just wait a minute. I don't have to croak, son. I still got my fiddle, you know. And you don't see no barnacles hanging on me either. Wow, Sam. And now, before our Song of the west, this message from our sponsor. In the grand panorama of the west, every hour of the day paints a special canvas all its own. Sunrise across shadow lengthened mountains. High noon in a redwood forest. And twilight on the shimmering sands of the desert. Ever changing, never twice alike. Nature shows her masterpieces in a grandeur that only the eye can behold. And for the last, she saves the best. The moon and the stars in a cloudless sky as nightfalls on the prairie the prairie rests at eventide and small things into shadows high for heaven walks the plains tonight A million stars that knew they should Came shining down for there you stood A vision bathed in heaven's light Night falls on the prairie Pale shadows of blue for telling me that you must be part of the prairie when you were done you were one of its dawn night fall on the prairie and I found an angel in my own. This is Bob Nolan signing off. For all the sons of the pioneers be with us again, won't you? So long. Huh?
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