Shel Silverstein sites closed (songs)

Subject: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: alanabit
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:26 PM

I just had a crack at getting into Carol's Banned Width site, which was an excellent source of lyrics and poems by the wonderful Shel Silverstein. I found that all sites showing writings of the man appear to have been closed down by a solicitor's letter from his executors. As the man himself appears to have had no objection to his lyrics being published when he was alive, it looks like a pretty small minded and mean action to withdraw them now. Does anybody else know anything?

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: Clinton Hammond
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:29 PM

What I know about Shel rattles around in a shot glass beside what I know about cars and what I understand about women, but... all too often what a man wants has very little bearing on what the executors of his estate actually do...

Ask JRR Tolkien...

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST,.Shel's Spirit
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:30 PM

There are too many kids in the tub. There are too many elbows to scrub. I just washed a behind, I'm sure wasn't mine. There are too many kids in the tub.

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST,Shel's Spirit
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:32 PM

When the stop-light is red we stop.
When the stop-light is green we hop.
But what do we do
When the stop-light is blue,
With purple and pink colored dots?

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST,Shel's Spirit
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:34 PM

I'll bet we can get 99.9% of my published works back on the net within 24 hours.

Now THERE is a Mudcat challenge!

Subject: Lyr Add: PEANUT-BUTTER SANDWICH (Shel Silverstein)
From: GUEST
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:41 PM

PEANUT-BUTTER SANDWICH
by Shel Silverstein, from Where The Sidewalk Ends

I'll sing you a poem of a silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string,
But he only loved one single thing?
And that was just a peanut-butter sandwich.

His scepter and his royal gowns,
His regal throne and golden crowns
Were brown and sticky from the mounds
And drippings from each peanut-butter sandwich.

His subjects all were silly fools
For he had passed a royal rule
That all that they could learn in school
Was how to make a peanut-butter sandwich.

He would not eat his sovereign steak,
He scorned his soup and kingly cake,
And told his courtly cook to bake
An extra-sticky peanut-butter sandwich.

And then one day he took a bit
And started chewing with delight,
But found his mouth was stuck quite tight
From that last bite of peanut-butter sandwich.

His brother pulled, his sister pried,
The wizard pushed, his mother cried,
"My boy's committed suicide
From eating his last peanut-butter sandwich!"

The dentist came, and the royal doc.
The royal plumber banged and knocked,
But still those jaws stayed tightly locked.
Oh darn that sticky peanut-butter sandwich!

The carpenter, he tried with pliers,
The telephone man tried with wires,
The firemen, they tried with fire,
But couldn't melt that peanut-butter sandwich.

With ropes and pulleys, drills and coil,
With steam and lubricating oil?
For twenty years of tears and toil?
They fought that awful peanut-butter sandwich.

Then all his royal subjects came.
They hooked his jaws with grapplin' chains
And pulled both ways with might and main
Against that stubborn peanut-butter sandwich.

Each man and woman, girl and boy
Put down their ploughs and pots and toys
And pulled until kerack! Oh, joy?
They broke right through that peanut-butter sandwhcih

A puff of dust, a screech, a squeak?
The king's jaw opened with a creak.
And then in voice so faint and weak?
The first words that they heard him speak
Were, "How about a peanut-butter sandwich?"

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:44 PM

No need to fret - many of his songs are in the DT

Subject: Lyr Add: COVER OF THE ROLLING STONE (Silverstein)
From: alanabit
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 04:49 PM

I like it Shel's Spirit. What if we all post our favourite songs here so we can put one over the selfish bastards who closed down Carol's site?

THE COVER OF THE ROLLING STONE (by Shel Silverstein)

We're big rock singers we've got golden fingers
And we're loved everywhere we go
We sing about beauty and we sing about truth
At ten thousand dollars a show
We take all kinds of pills to give us all kinds of thrills
But the one thrill we've never known
Is the thrill which will hit yer when you get yer picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

Rolling Stone (Gonna see my face on the cover)
Rolling Stone (Gonna buy five copies for my mother)
Rolling Stone (Gonna see my smiling face on the cover of the Rolling Stone)

I've got a cute little lady called Cocain Sadie
Sewing my old blue jeans
I've got my dear old grey haired Daddy
Driving my limousine
And it's all desigend to blow our minds
But our minds won't truly be blown
Till the thrill that will hit yer when you get yer picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

We've got ten thousand cute little blue eyed girls
Who do anything we say
We've got a genuine Indian guru - who's teaching us a better way
We've got all of the friends that money can buy
So we never have to be alone
And we keep getting richer but we can't get our picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone

Others I really like are "I've just got to get rid of this band" and "The ugliest man in the town". Who's got those?

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: Geoff the Duck
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 05:12 PM

alanabit - I have just sent you a PM which contains information you may find useful.
Quack!GtD.

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: Clinton Hammond
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 05:52 PM

Until the 'selfish bastard' notices Mudcat on a search engine and comes here and asks for it all to be removed from here as well...

You folks and yer easily jerked knees...

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST,celtaddict
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 06:10 PM

Not songs, but my favorite two short and rather grownup Shel poems.

   In that dark cave,
   A lonely, burnt-out dragon sits
   And sighs
   And sadly sniffs
   The bone-filled suit of armor
   That lies rusting at his door.

   Please tell me just the fabuli,
   The miraculi, the gargantua,
   And kindly, kindly spare me
   All this insignificantia.

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 07:03 PM

My daughter finally convinced her first grade teacher that she really could read when we met for a specially requested parent-teacher conference. She proceeded to read one of her favorites--"Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out." The teacher and I enjoyed listened to Caroline read of "gristly bits of beefy roasts" and chuckle as she read.

Perhaps we should host a special Mudcat reading of "Hungry Mungry" and dedicate it to Dubya?

SRS

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: Lanfranc
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 07:25 PM

I'm awfully glad I printed off most of my favourites recently.

The internet as ephemera - discuss!

Alan

Subject: Lyr Add: SARAH CYNTHIA SYLVIA STOUT (Silverstein)
From: GUEST,Shel's Spirit
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 08:18 PM

That's a good one River Sage it is also nicely sung by Tori Amos.


Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Would not take the garbage out
She'd scour the pots and scrap the pans
Candy the yams and spice the hams
And though her daddy would scream and shout
She simply would not take the garbage out
And so it pulled up to the ceilings
Coffee grounds, potato peelings
Brown bananas, rotten peas
Chunks of sour cottage cheese
It filled the can it covered the floor
It cracked the window and blocked the door
With bacon rinds and chicken bones
Drippy ends of ice cream cones
Prunes pits, peach pits, orange peel
Gloppy glumps of cold oatmeal
Pizza crusts and withered greens
Soggy beans and tangerines
Crusts of black burned butter toast
Grisly bits of beefy roast
The garbage rolled on down the hall
It raised the roof, it broke the wall
Greesy napkins, cookie crumbs
Glops of gooey bubble gum
Celaphane from green bologna
Rubbery blubbery macaroni
Peanut butter caked and dry
Curdled milk and crusts of pie
Moldy melons, dried up mustard
Egg shells mixed with lemon custard
Cold french fries and rancid meat
Yellow lumps of cream-of-wheat
At last the garbage reached so high
That finally it touched the sky
All the neighbors moved away
And none of her friends would come to play
And finally Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout
Said "Okay, I'll take the garbage out"
Then of course it was too late
The garbage reached across the state
From New York to the Golden Gate
And there in the garbage she did hate
Poor Sarah met an awful fate
That I cannot right now relate
Because the hour is much to late
The children remember Sarah Stout
And always take the yummy garbage out

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: michaelr
Date: 06 Apr 03 - 11:05 PM

Well, sylviasmother.com is still up -- hurry up and copy all the lyrics into Mudcat!

Cheers,
Michael

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: JJ
Date: 07 Apr 03 - 10:05 AM

I'm sorry to hear about this. Carol was also collecting all of Shel's liner notes, an act of scholarship which shouldn't have brought the baliffs down on her head. (We met in an eBay bidding war over a Jo Mapes LP, and I sent her the liner notes for "Gibson & Camp at the Gate of Horn.")

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: Stilly River Sage
Date: 07 Apr 03 - 12:21 PM

It sounds like someone is trying to gather the information together to realize profits from Silverstein's estate. What he allowed in his lifetime may have no importance to his heirs. Having dealt with an expensive battle over a messy estate in recent years, I can only be sorry that some of his heirs are going to imprint their values over his, and what they have to say is likely to have less value or importance. Any future trips to the Silverstein well are going to be expensive and the water somewhat polluted.

SRS (third try--delete extras if they all turn up)

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 07 Apr 03 - 04:32 PM

As I understand the legal situation, they can come down on the DT, but they can't touch the stuff on the threads. Until they move the goal posts.

Subject: Lyr Add: MAKING A MESS OF COMMERCIAL SUCCESS
From: GUEST,Midchuck, down in the office
Date: 07 Apr 03 - 07:57 PM

Here's "MAKING A MESS OF COMMERCIAL SUCCESS," as I learned it from the Bob Gibson recording:

It was me and Jack working Duval Street, singing our songs by the dock,
When this Teevee director come up lookin' for extras,
Said he needed our pretty faces right down the block.

They were making some kind of commercial, 'bout the beer we like here in Key West,
And all we had to do was just sit on a stool
And do what we really do best.

He said they were paying a C-note, and we really needed the bread,
So we pointed our feet to that bar down the street,
Lit up like a Hollywood set.

There was cameras and cables on every table, and we were grinning from ear to ear.
It was almost like stealin', that's how we were feelin'
When they passed 'round those big mugs of beer.

They gave me the line, "Less Filling!" and Jack got the line, "Great Taste!"
Then they yelled "rehearsal," and we started acting
With beer foam all over our face.

They said "Take One!" and filled up our glasses, stuck a big busty blonde on my lap.
Then I said "Less Filling," and Jack said "Great Taste!
This actin' stuff sure is a snap!"

Well, I thought they would hand us an Oscar, but the director said "beautiful, kids,
But can you give me more soul?" I said "Hell, let 'er roll!"
And they shouted "Take Two!" so we did!

Well, those hot lights, they sure kept us sweatin', and the beer got mixed up with the lines,
And I said "Less Fillin'," Jack said "Getch'ya drunker!"
And the director yelled "Take Twenty-nine!"

Finally, he said "Almost perfect! But can you give me more realism, please?"
So I jumped up and felt up the blonde as she belched, and Jack fell off the stool,
And went down on his knees.

Well, we're now up to Take Eighty-seven, and the director, he's damn close to tears,
And I said "Less Filling," and Jack said "You turkey,
What the hell do you know about beer?"

So I made some remark 'bout his Mama, and his beer mug rammed into my nose,
So I grabbed a camera, and gave him a slam
That took twenty-four stitches to close.

Then the director starts screamin' and screechin', "You're all weirdos and dirtbags down here!
And you may know a lot 'bout tequila and pot,
But Key West don't know Jack about beer!"

Well, with that, all the locals went crazy, grabbing for bottles of booze,
Punchin' and fightin' and tearin' down lights,
And barfin' light beer up on each others' shoes.

They were screaming and squalling, maiming and mauling, punching and stabbing and killing;
Half of 'em shoutin' out "Great Taste,"
And the other half yellin' "Less Filling!"

'Midst the screaming and squalling, maiming and mauling, while the bullets and beer foam sprayed,
Me and Jack and the blonde, we just crawled off unnoticed,
To a quieter, more genteel, cafe.

"So here's to good friends, this night was kinda special," says Jack, ordering three more beers.
And the blonde said "Boys, these buds are for you!"
And we drank to good friends, and we toasted the end,
Of our glorious acting careers.

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST,ET
Date: 08 Apr 03 - 02:56 PM

Just my favoritest of all....

If you're a bird, be an early bird
and catch a worm for your breakfast plate.
If you're a bird, be an early bird
But if you're a worm, sleep late!

Don't know if it was ever set to music, just like it cause it sums up the whole human condition. Elaine

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: Geoff the Duck
Date: 08 Sep 03 - 12:25 PM

The Banned Width site is back on line, and appears to have disappeared during April for reasons different from the assumptions within this thread. Click here BLICKY to get to the site.
Quack!
GtD.

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: alanabit
Date: 08 Sep 03 - 12:52 PM

Thanks very much Geoff. From a quick look , it seems as though Carol did have other problems. However, I note that there are no longer links to the lyrics. I know for a fact that the lawyers shut down the lyrics part, because at one stage she posted a copy of the letter which prevented her from giving links to them. It is good to see the site up again. It's a labour of love and a tribute to a very special writer.

Subject: Lyr Add: SING FOR THE SONG etc. (Shel Silverstein)
From: Susanne (skw)
Date: 08 Sep 03 - 05:10 PM

(Some of what follows may not be the original lyrics as I got them from the singing of Iain MacKintosh and - in one easily spotted case - Hamish Imlach.)


SING FOR THE SONG

Chorus:
Sing for the song, boy
Just like you did when you stood on the corner
And you didn't feel the cold
Sing for the song, boy
Just like you did before the beer, the whisky
Got hold of your soul
Sing for the song

Sometimes you sing for the money
Sometimes you sing for the show
Sometimes you sing for those listening ladies
You can still make them cry, don't you know
Sometimes you sing for the glory
But the glory doesn't last very long
Through the haze of the stage
Can you look back to the days
When you used to sing for the song

No, you really don't make too much money
And you don't give much of a show
And those listening ladies next week will be listening
To somebody else, don't you know
When the music is becoming a burden
When the words come out twisted and wrong
Through the haze of the stage
Can you look back to the days
When you used to sing for the song

Repeat 1



LIZ

I'll admit I'm not very handsome
I'll admit my hair is getting thin
I know I'm getting fat and some other things like that
So do you wonder why I sit and slyly grin?

It's just because (allegedly)
Liz got round to Nicky Hilton
To Michael Todd, and Wilding, that makes three
She got around to Eddie Fisher, she got round to Richard Burton
So I'm certain she'll get around to me some day

So I'm sittin` here waiting in the Star Club
I'm confident and happy as can be
I never go on dates, I just sit here and wait
Because I know she's gonna get around to me

My mother says she thinks that I should marry
She says Shirley is the girlie meant for me
But I tell her how it is, I've just got to wait for Liz
Because I know she's gonna get around to me - in VistaVision

I know she's gonna get around to me



LULLABIES LEGENDS AND LIES

Chorus:
Lullabies, legends and lies
And lies
Lullabies, legends and lies
I've sung my songs, now I'll travel along
With my lullabies, legends and lies

I sang of cradles and cats, roses and rats
Sang about cheeky young boys
About teachers and kids and things that they did
And lullabies, legends and lies

And so, my friends, it's that time again
It's time to say our goodbyes
And when you go outside you can try to decide
Which were lullabies, legends and lies

So empty your glasses, before you go home
Could I give you one word of advice
If you like songs like these I've got lots of CDs
Full of lullabies, legends and lies



WHISKY AND WOMEN

Give me strong whisky and weak women
Everything will be just fine
Give me weak whisky and a strong woman
You'll break this heart of mine
I love women, whisky too
When I get drunk there's nothing I won't do
Give me strong whisky and weak women
Everything will be just fine

Give me old whisky and young women
Everything's going my way
Give me young whisky and an old woman
There'll be hell to pay
Whisky's fine when it's aged in wood
When a woman's aged it's not quite as good
Give me old whisky and young women
Everything's going my way

Give me good whisky and bad women
Sit back and watch me scream
Give me bad whisky and a good woman
I won't do a thing
I like my whisky neat and strong
I like my women loving long
Give me good whisky and bad women
Everything's going my way



I CAN'T TOUCH THE SUN

I can't touch the clouds for you
I never reached the sun for you
I can't do the things that you need done for you
I've stretched as high as I can reach
I guess I'm not the one for you
I can't touch the clouds or reach the sun for you

I can't turn back time for you
And make you sweet sixteen again
I can't turn your faded leaves to green again
I can't sit around and talk
About what might have been again
I can't turn back time and make you young again

I hope you'll find somebody who can do the things I didn't do
Find the roads I didn't find and build a brighter world for you
I hope you'll find somebody bold enough to reach and take a hold
Change your ever-changing mind and free your ever-rising soul
'Cause I can't - I can't

I can't look inside your head
See the things you're groping for
I can't help you chase the dreams you're hoping for
You say your arms are open wide
God knows who they're open for
I can't look inside and see your mind

So say good bye and don't look back
I've had some happy days with you
Sorry I can't be the one who stays with you
If they ask about me
You could say I was the one with you
Who never touched the clouds or reached the sun for you



PUT ANOTHER LOG ON THE FIRE

Put another log on the fire
Cook me up some bacon and some beans
Go out to the car and change the tyre
Wash my socks and sew my old blue jeans
Fill my pipe and then go fetch my slippers
And boil me up another pot of tea
Then put another log on the fire, babe
And come and tell me why you're leaving me

Don't I let you wash the car on Sunday
Don't I warn you when you're getting fat
Ain't I gonna take you fishing with me some day
You know a man can't love a woman more than that
Ain't I always nice to your kid sister
And don't I take her driving every night
Come and sit here by my feet 'cos' I love you when you're sweet
And you know it isn't feminine to fight

Repeat 1



THE MERMAID SONG

When I was a lad in a fishing town
An old man said to me
You can live your life, your jolly life
A-sailing on the sea
You can search the world for pretty girls
Till your eyes are weak and dim
But don't go swimming with a mermaid, son
If you don't know how to swim

Her hair is green as seaweed
Her skin is blue and pale
You can love that girl with all your heart
But I tell you now before you start
You're just gonna love the upper part
You're not gonna like the tail

Well, I signed on to a whaling ship
On my first day at sea
I spied a mermaid in the waves
A-reaching out to me
Come live with me in the sea, said she
Down on the ocean floor
I'll show you a million wondrous things
You've never seen before
So in I jumped and down I swam
Down to the ocean bed
And a pillow made of turtle shells
She placed beneath my head
She fed me shrimps and caviar
Served on a silver dish
From her head to her waist she was just my taste
But the rest of her was a fish

Her hair was green as seaweed
Her skin was blue and pale
Her face it was a work of art
And I loved that girl with all my heart
But I only loved the upper part
I didn't like the tail

But then one day she swam away
To sing to the clams and whales
I missed her skin, I missed her hair
And the silvery shine of her scales
Then her sister came swimming by
Set my heart in a whirl
'Cause the upper half was an ugly fish
But the rest of her was a girl

Her toes were pink and rosy
Her knees were blue and pale
Her legs were a work of art
And I loved that girl with all my heart
I don't give a damn about the upper part
And that's how I end my tale



HEY NELLY NELLY
(Shel / Jim Friedman)

Hey Nelly Nelly, come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly, look at what I see
He's riding into town on a sway-back mule
In a tall black hat he looks like a fool
He sure is talking like he's been to school
It's 1855

Hey Nelly Nelly, come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly, listen what he says
He say the black folk should be free
To walk anywhere like you and me
He's talking about a thing called democracy
It's 1859

Hey Nelly Nelly, come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly, hand me down my gun
The men are marching, the boys are too
All putting on their coats of blue
I can't just stand here talking to you
It's 1861

Hey Nelly Nelly, come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly, I've come home alive
But my coat of blue is stained with red
And the man in the tall black hat is dead
We sure can remember all the things he said
It's 1865

Hey Nelly Nelly, come to the window
Hey Nelly Nelly, look at what I see
I see white folks and colored walkin' side by side
They're walkin' in a column that's a century wide
It's still a long and a hard and a bloody ride
In 1963

From Selma to Soweto we're turning the tide
Things are changing now



PEGLEG JOHNSON

Chorus:
I'm a three-legged man with a two-legged woman
Being chased round the country by a one-legged fool
He's jumpin', he's hoppin' and he shows no sign of stoppin'
I tell you boys, life is hard and cruel

Friends I must confess it
For I know you'll never guess it
I just met the sweetest woman
In my long and lonesome life
But a friend said to me, Iain
I can't believe what I'm seein'
Don't you know the girl you're fooling with
Is Pegleg Johnson's wife
And the man is big and mad and mean and grim
And he'll brain you with his artificial limb
But you know next morning early
I stole Pegleg's girlie
And I took his wooden leg as well
Just to play it safe
But there was no time for laughter
'Cause he started hoppin' after
Though I keep running faster
He just won't give up the chase
And now I'm running through the mountains with his bride
And I've got his wooden leg here by my side

From the mountains of Montana
To the swamps of Louisiana
'Cross the mighty Mississippi
To the hills of Carolin'
From the mountains and the valleys
To the city streets and alleys
Each time I look round
He's just one foot behind
And I know he's cold and wet and damp and sick
And in spite of all his troubles he can't kick

Now at nights as I lie sleeping
In my dreams I see him creeping
And I hear him scream and holler
And I hear him plead and beg
He says, you've done some stealin'
But I bear you no hard feelings
You can keep the damned old woman
But give me back my leg
In the dark I know you thought you took the wood one
But examine it you'll find it's my good one

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST
Date: 08 Sep 03 - 05:33 PM

Skips hmmm and the bin - Tee hee

Sorry I'm headin for the club ooops I mean the festival

Oh and the ozone

A perfect "10" are you crazy - how many!

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: GUEST,Hal Davis
Date: 08 Sep 03 - 09:25 PM

alanabit writes:

==I note that there are no longer links to the lyrics. I know for a fact that the lawyers shut down the lyrics part, because at one stage she posted a copy of the letter which prevented her from giving links to them.==

The links to the lyrics seem to be up as well. As in "25 Minutes to Go"
at
http://www.banned-width.com/shel/works/25mins.html

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: wysiwyg
Date: 08 Sep 03 - 09:46 PM

Dunno if there are any here that you want:

AMERICANA SONGBOOK

Anyhow, I did see some Shel stuff in there today.

~S~

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed
From: alanabit
Date: 09 Sep 03 - 02:53 AM

Thanks folks. I checked the link and it's working. Some good news. I hope the bloody lawyers got well stuffed!

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed (songs)
From: GUEST,someone
Date: 17 Nov 04 - 08:03 PM

I thought that all of shel siversteins poems are grea. He has a great abiity to write poems. If you are reading this thne i recomend to you reading many of the poems that he has written

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed (songs)
From: Genie
Date: 18 Nov 04 - 01:52 AM

Aw, rats!!!
§>:(

Genie

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed (songs)
From: Genie
Date: 18 Nov 04 - 07:44 AM

This link needs to be added to those at the top of this thread:

Lyrics to "Susan's Floor"

Subject: RE: Shel Silverstein sites closed (songs)
From: Genie
Date: 18 Nov 04 - 08:14 AM

Oops! I see that link is already there. (It's listed as "On Susan's Floor.")

Subject: Lyr Add: YOWZAH (Shel Silverstein)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 05 Dec 17 - 12:10 PM

Somebody mentioned this as an example of "talking blues." Well, I'm not sure about that, but it's definitely recited rather than sung.


YOWZAH
As recorded by Shel Silverstein on "Crouchin' on the Outside" (2010) and "I'm So Good I Don't Have to Brag!" (2010)

Well, it wasn't too very long ago,
You know, some folks walked with a heigh-de-ho,
And other folks walked around kinda low
Sayin' "Yowzah," an' "Sho' 'nuff," an' "Yassuh, boss."

It was ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
They didn't believe in makin' a fuss,
So when someone said "Move to the back o' the bus,"
They just said: "Yowzah," an' "Sho' 'nuff," an' "Yassuh, boss."

Yeah, they perspired and they expired.
Still, they never got no higher.
Now and then they'd get a little bit tired
Of sayin' "Yowzah," an' "Sho' 'nuff," an' "Yassuh, boss."

So they'd all go out and do a little prayin',
Little arm wavin' an' a little bit o' swayin'.
Didn't do no good; they just kept right on sayin'
"Yowzah," an' "Sho' 'nuff," an' "Yassuh, boss."

They were shinin' shoes an' fryin' chicken,
Washin' cars an' cotton pickin'.
Fin'ly at last they got damn sick o' sayin':
"Yowzah," an' "Sho' 'nuff," an' "Yassuh, boss."

So they all got together; they did a little standin',
Little less askin' an' a lot more demandin',
Little less liftin', a little less totin',
Lot more thinkin' an' a lot more votin',
Lot less hopin', lot less waitin',
Whole lot more demonstratin',
Whole lot less pearly-gatin',
Lot more screamin' an' a lot more walkin',
Till finally hardly anybody at all was talkin'
Like "Yowzah," an' "Sho' 'nuff," an' "Yassuh, boss."

Now the moral of the story is plain to see:
They finally achieved equality,
And now like you and me,
They can stand up strong and free,
And say: "Yes, sir," and "Of course, sir," and "Anything you say, J. B."