my dads version went something like this---I was just a little boy, I was born in illinois, and me father shoveled horse shit on the street..at the age of 93 he decided that he'd up and die and he did..Oh how they dithered how they cried,all of me brothers and me sister Isable. They gave me the dickens when ever they had the chance. and all they left for me was the OLD BROWN PANTS. he had heard this as a boy 1920's