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Sons of the Pioneers 47-xx-xx (109) First Song - Old Black Mountain Trail
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Sons of the Pioneers 47-xx-xx (109) First Song - Old Black Mountain Trail
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See them tumbling down Ado. This is Bob Nolan and all the Sons of the Pioneers. Here's a riding song that looks pretty good to open things up with A riding song that's even good for walking Old black Mountain Trail so we'll soon be hiking up for life's cumin liking on that old black mountain trail where the pine trees sobbing since the heart stranger throbbing for the whistle of the quail There's a blue eyed girl awaiting who will run down and meet me in the vale so I'll soon be hiking up for life's good my liking on that old black mountain Getting tired of the city weary of its strife and care Gonna sing a different ditty Gonna breeze some mountain air so the days I'm accountin Till I hike up the mountain where it's holding up the sky Found an old log pillow I will lie and eat the willow As a childhood day's gone by so I'll hike an old black mountain Gonna leave ere the moon begins to pale dawn will find me Hiking up for life's loom Alikin on that old black mountain trail Hiking right along. Gosh, Bob, I'm sorry I couldn't go along with you, but my boots were just too tight. Oh, fine excuse Fogor. And why didn't you take your boots off? Oh, no. When I take my boots off and wiggle my toes, I want to go crawdad fishing. We'll settle for that, Foggy. Go on, take your boots off. Now you're talking. Need a little help here now on that Red Bull. Now, Lloyd, you get a line and I'll get a pole and we'll all go down to the crawdad hole. You get a line and I'll get a pole. Honey, you get a line and I'll get a pole. Bab, you get a line and I'll get a pole. Yeah, and I'll dig the worm and we'll go down to that crawdad hole. Honey baby Cynthia. Standing on the corner with a dollar in my hand. Honey. Stand on the corner with a dollar in my hand, Bab. Stand on the corner with a dollar in my hand. A capitalist cause I'm waiting there for that crawdad man. Honey baby Brandy, you want to come? A darkie with a sack on his back. Honey, you ought to come. A darkie with a sack on his back. Babe, you wanna come? A darkie with a sack on his back. He must have hit the jackpot. Cause he's got all the crawdad he can pack. A Knee baby Marty Darky fell down and he broke his sack. Honey. Darky fell down and he broke his sack. Bab. Darky fell down and sure is clumsy. You can see them crawl down back and back. Ugly baby Elviri what you gonna do when the pond goes dry? Honey, what you gonna do when the pond goes dry? Babe, Whatcha gonna do when the pond goes dry? Mm, it'll sure be a calamity. You can just sit on the bank and watch them crawl and die. Honey baby Samantha. Give me the hook and give me the line, honey Give me the hook and give me the line, baby. Give me the hook and give me the line. I'll give you nothing and push you backward. Cause all these fish that I catch Our mind, Honey baby. Susie Septi Mirande, Martha Alvare Samati and Suzy Bell. Good idea you had Foghorn. And now here's another good idea. Let's all listen to a message from our sponsor, Sam Sa. Here's Ken Carson to sing that beloved old ballad. Believe me, if all those endearing young charms. Believe me, if all those endearing young charms. Which I gaze on so fondly today. Were to change by tomorrow and fleet from my arms. Like the fairy gifts fading away. Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art. Let thy loveliness fade as it will. And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself burdenly still. Thank you, Kenny. Believe me, of all those endearing young charms. You know, Bob, that's a pretty long song title itself. Almost as long as one of mine. Almost, but not quite. Bughorn, we'll have to buy you an encyclopedia. Encyclopedia? No, no, Bob. The petals would hurt his sore feet. Oh, now, now, see here, Pat Brady. I guess I know what an encyclopedia is. My Aunt Judy raises all kinds of flowers. Flowers. But anyway, my brother Carl is gonna play our own composition. Our composition, huh? I wrote the song and he wrote the title. Anyhow. Get your guitar, Carl. And here it comes. My boots are tight and my feet both hurt. And my socks are full of hold. But I don't mind. Cause my squeaking boots make music in my soul blue. Oh, thank you. Thank you. Our song of the west will be riding the range with you. But first, this message from our sponsor. Nowadays the dude ranches make a pretty good spot for romance. Now, that's a little bit out of our line. But we got to admit that it makes a mighty pretty picture in the movies when a boy and a girl ride off into the sunset singing a song like this. Riding down a western trail under skies of blue Swaying in the saddle all day long Life will always be a song Riding the range with you when the day's ended and the stars appear over Lazy cattle bedded down I find consolation knowing you'll be near near me when tomorrow rolls around Riding days are happy days on the roaring plains Swaying in the saddle all day long Life becomes a happy song Riding the range with you Clouds of gray they fade away and it never rains the sun is always shining from above and I find the life I know Riding the rains with you the yellow moon that rolls along up yonder Will always keep a shine and bright to light our trails wherever we may Wander o' er the rolling plains at night Riding down a western trail under skies and blue Swaying in the saddle all day long Life will always be a song Ride in the range with you Ride my range, you this is Bob Nolan signing off for all the Sons of the Pioneers again, won't you? So long now, Sam. It.