Here are the lyrics my mother (who would have been 78 now) used to sing to us kids. We never new the title until now. She came from NYC and used to go to the country every summer, where we believe she learned this song.


Oh I was born One night, one morn When the whistles went boom boom
You can fry a cake Or bake a steak When mud pies are in bloom
If 6 and 6 make 9 And ice grows on a vine
Then Old Black Joe's an Eskimo In the good old summertime

Oh, I loop-de-loop In my noodle soup Just to give my socks a shine
I'm guilty Judge. I stole the fudge. Three cheers for Auld Lang Syne
I cannot tell a lie. I hooked a case of rye
Twas was on a tree Below the sea Above the deep blue sky!

Oh, they call me King Napoleon But I'm not him at all
I come from South Dakota Way down in old Saint Paul
I'll sue them all for slander. I'll make them all repent
For how can I be Bonaparte When I'm the President

Oh, if Easter eggs Don't wash their legs, Their children will be ducks. (Quack, quack!)
I'd rather buy A lemon pie For forty-seven bucks.
Way down in Barcelonio They blow right down your phonio
Oh, this is all baloneyo Paderewski blow your horn. (Toot, toot!)