The remark above about "Saturday Night" deriving from "Woody Knows Nothing" is unfortunately backwards. "Saturday Night" is a great deal older; I'm pretty sure the "Woody knows nothing" line dates back only to about 1960.

Not sure who originated the "Woody Knows Nothing" version -- nor does it have anything to do with Woody Guthrie, despite the association of threads above -- "Woody" is a woodpecker, of course. It first appeared, I believe, no earlier than the early 1960s, and may have been associated with Bob Gibson(?? not sure about this part.) A clever addition to a much older song.

The "Woody" verse is a rewrite of one Susan Reed used to sing. I'm a bit vague on the wording, but here it is as I remember it:

Blackbird flyin' through the air,
Through the sky of blue,
Never did I know till the other day
What love, oh love, could do, do,
What love, oh love, could do.

Given Reed's family association with theater and arts professionals in New York, this verse may have been made up by somebody in that crowd. Or, given that she was taken on song collecting trips by her parents, it may be traditional.

Burl Ives was, I think, the first to record the song (but did not use the Blackbird verse). He seems to have learned "Saturday Night" from the singing of John A. Lomax, who put it together from verses of field hollers in Texas -- that's the likely deduction to be made from Alan Lomax's headnotes to the song as it appears in The Folk Songs of North America, p. 499-50. Or from Alan Lomax himself, who used it in concerts and recorded it on Kapp in the late 50s with seven verses, as follows.

SATURDAY NIGHT (from the singing of John Lomax)

Saturday night and Sunday too,
Pretty gals on my mind,
Monday mornin' break of day,
Old massa's got me gwine,
Old massa's got me gwine.

Jaybird pull a two hoss plough,
Sparrow, why won't you?
'Cause my legs is little and long,
I'm scared they'll pull in two, (2)

Monday morning, break of day,
White folks got me gwine,
Saturday night when the sun goes down,
That yaller gal am mine, (2)

Lightnin' is a yaller gal,
She lives up in the clouds,
Thunder is a black man,
An' he can holler loud, (2)

When he kisses Miss Lightnin'
She falls all in a wonder,
He jumps up and grabs the clouds,
And that's what makes it thunder.

Love it am a killin' thing,
Beauty am a blossom,
But if you want your finger bit,
Just poke it at a possum, (2)

I am gwine to die some day,
When it comes my time,
And the very last word I expect to say,
Is -- I wish that gal was mine.

I've always wondered whether the "Miss Lightnin'" pair of verses is traditional or made up by John Lomax -- it's almost too elegant for real folk. But it sure is picturesque.

Bob