Lyrics & Knowledge Personal Pages Record Shop Auction Links Radio & Media Kids Membership Help
The Mudcat Cafemuddy

Post to this Thread - Sort Descending - Printer Friendly - Home


Lyr Add: Woopsin - The Lion (calypso)

RyBurhans 02 Jul 14 - 03:50 PM
GUEST,Tony 05 Jul 14 - 08:11 PM
Share Thread
more
Lyrics & Knowledge Search [Advanced]
DT  Forum
Sort (Forum) by:relevance date
DT Lyrics:





Subject: Lyr Add: Woopsin - The Lion (calypso)
From: RyBurhans
Date: 02 Jul 14 - 03:50 PM

Woopsin - The Lion

Well, have you not heard the gossip?
And the rumor going around?
It's all about men and women
That we have know in the town
It would appear that the female sex
Is now on a labor parade
So, no work for men, it's only women
Monopolizing every trade
What is they called boys?

Do, Re, Me - yes, she woopsin
Fa, So, La - and they lead the co'lition
Woopsin, woopsin, La-Ti-Do
And leave us for ?solderin?/sortering?
(x2)

Now to show that they are using brains
As aviators, they are shooting aeroplanes
They are dangerous spies in war
As carpenters, well they can handle any chore
They are wrestling, they are boxing
They are holding their own in burglarlin'
They earn in everythin', even in football
And they ain't no foolin' bat and ball
What is they called now?

(Chorus)

In romancing, they are up in front
In fooling, that's their favorite stunt
In offices, they are good the same
Spendin' man' money, well that's they're middle name
In gamb(a)lin' they always score
?In all talking?, it dey who win the war
They are bound join us, short


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Woopsin - The Lion (calypso)
From: GUEST,Tony
Date: 05 Jul 14 - 08:11 PM

Ry, I'm sorry I haven't been able to contribute anything to your lyrics. I'm not very good at figuring out Trinidadian patois. You've corrected misunderstandings I had about several of the songs, and several others that you posted were songs I've never heard.

But I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your posting them. I've printed them all and I'm going to try to figure out how to sing them.

And I love your ukelele renditions of Calypsos on YouTube. I hope you'll post more. Have you heard Frank van Meeteren's guitar rendition of Motor Car Horn? It's at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-8rdeyDZOcs

Here's my entire collection of Calypso lyrics, full of mistakes, in case it's of any use to you or to anyone else reading your posts:


Amelia by The Tiger (rec Port of Spain 3/14/38)

Amelia, dou-dou, to be honest and true,
me life and confidence placed in you. I say,
Amelia, dou-dou, to be honest and true,
me life and confidence placed in you.
Me father was a man belong to high rank.
He die and leave money in the royal bank.
He leave a cow, a goat, and a male donkey,
and that is why I want to join in matrimony.

I mean to tell you the truth, how I met with Amelia
is when I landed from America.
I told her "Darling, I love you honest and true,
and anything for you I would do."
She said to meet her that night in the square
by th'electric clock. I'd meet her anywhere;
So we agreed to meet quite positively,
you could believe me, by La Peyrouse cemetery.

Well, I took Battoo bus at seven thirty,
on my way to the cemetery, and then
I told her my aim it was matrimony,
and mine heart does rule me body.
She look at me and laugh and said,
"You too small, and furthermore singin' ain't no work at all."
She wanted a doctor or a barrister,
a chief engineer, or an overseer.

So I told her from the cow you can get nice milk;
wi' the money buy satin and silk.
It is a decent size for anyone to lead,
and plant provision on which we can feed;
Build a nice home in the month of June,
and on the island we'll spend our nice honeymoon.
We won't have to pay not a cent for rent.
We'll be just as the Duke and Duchess of Kent.

But I really believe she made a terrible mistake.
She thought I had cotton estate.
She began demanding ten bolt of silk,
and to supply Port-of-Spain with milk.
But the cow died on her suddenly.
I mean, the donkey was no good entirely.
And not until later did she realize
one of the goat leg was paralyze.


Motor Car Horn by Growling Tiger

My girl Veronica, she does make me boil,
with her taxi-driver, the guy's name is Paul.
We live in the country, she's working in the city.
Four o'clock every morning, he's blowing his horn for she.
I don't mind he's talking to she and she's talking to he. After all...
I don't mind he takes her to work every morning in the taxi.
I don't mind they're seein' each other, and they carry on.
But what I can't take is the way that he blows that motor car horn.

A certain neighbor's talking, and they're gossiping
about her behavior with that man in that motor car.
"A rain it was falling," they say, "it was nice time for romancing; and we see
your girl in the back seat, and she's dressed in her bikini." I say
I don't mind he's talking to she and she's talking to he. After all...
I don't mind he takes her to work every morning in the taxi.
I don't mind they're seein' each other, and they carry on.
But what I can't take is the way that he blows that motor car horn.

Four o'clock one morning, they woke me from sleeping.
I'm lying on the bed. I'm tired. I can't raise me head.
He comes and he's blowing consantly, I get up to see
why that horn was so busy; and that night I'm fighting with she. She say
Don't mind I'm talking to he and he's talking to me.
I am doing nothing funny, I give you that guarantee.
I tell her, "Keep talking, darling, the memories will linger on.
To the day of my death I will never forget that motor car horn."


Delcina by The Tiger (rec New York 4/4/36)

I met a girl called Delcina
in the heart of America. What she told me:
"Tiger, I'm feeling sad,
take me to your home in La Trinidad."
I said, "I'm a simple Calypsonian.
I can't pay your passage to my native land."
What she said: "Give the direction to me.
I'll swim to Trinidad on the open sea."

We strolled up Lenox Avenue. You could imagine how
I ol' talked to put her through.
I mean I had to use me Trinidadian brain
on our way to Brooklyn on the local train.
My mother die an' lef' me alone.
My father also caused me to roam.
Should I take that burden on me,
rather spend my lifetime in custody.

She took me to her home and her family.
They treated me with great hospitality
Silk pyjama suit for I to sleep in;
they bought face cream to keep my skin clean.
And when I had a touch of rheumatism pain.
The way she treated me, I cannot complain
Robert's Compound Syrup to take within,
an' Sloan Linament was to rub my skin.

She said, "I'm a true-born American,
but, darling, I adorin' a West Indian.
"Specially the boys from the land of Iere,
they can cuddle up so romantically;
"And with a little tact and kind courtesy,
they command the fairer sex easily."
Also their pep an' vitality.
Exile me to the land of La Trinity."


Emily by The Tiger (rec NY 3/22/35)
accra and float = a thin pancake wrapped around fried lumps of mashed saltfish

Listen, attentively, about myself and Emily.
Listen, attentively, about myself and Emily.
I met that sweet child in Port-of-Spain.
She took my address. I did the same.
We lived for three years in luxury,
and then joined in matrimony.

Well the first night that I met with her,
friends, I were going to theater.
They were showing Eddie Dowling in Blaze of Glory,
so we began romantically.
I courted romance with all my might,
when I saw her pretty carpet and electric light;
Mosquito nets right around her bed, pillows,
my goodness to rest my head.

For the wedding celebration I printed tickets,
and to her friends distributed.
Johnny, Go-Go, Miss Teisch, Tosh, Mama,
Buddha, Kid and Madame Cleo.
They all accepted it eagerly,
and promised to attend it most faithfully,
And then they congratulated me,
upon the move I made to matrimony.

I bought two casks of rum, split peas and rice,
and said the guests must be treated nice.
Five cattle, three sheep, two goats,
a bag of flour for accra and float.
Father said, "Friends, we are gathered all here.
If anyone objects, let them now draw near."
He said, "I pronounce you man and wife,
to live in love and peace for the rest of your life."

But that very night they began to fight,
and broke the chairs, and wares left and right.
So I whispered and said to Emily,
"This is highly indecency."
She said, "The guests they all are my friends,
and if you interfere, this will be the end."
And then she threw back the ring at me,
and so we finish with matrimony.


Money Is King by Growling Tiger
kokobe (ko-ko-PAY) = yaws, a tropical disease

If a man have money today,
people do not care if he have kokobe.
If a man have money today,
people do not care if he have kokobe.
He can commit murder and get off free,
and live in the governor's company.
But if you are poo-ah, they will say to you "Shoo",
and a dog is better than you.

If you have money to buy in a store,
the boss will shake your hand at the door.
Call the clerk to take down everything:
whiskey, cloth, earring and diamond ring.
Send them to your home on a motor bike.
You can pay the bill whenever you like.
And not a soul will ask you a thing.
They know very well that money is king.

A man with a collar and tie and waist-coat,
ask the Chinee-man to trust him accra and float.
"Me no trustam", bawl out the Chineeman,
"You better move-am from me frying pan.
You college man, me no know A B C.
You want-am accra gie-am penny."
And the worms start to jump in the man's belly,
and he cry out, "A dog is better than me!"

A dog can walk about and take up bone,
fowl head, stale bread, fish-tail and pone.
If it is a good breed and is not too wild,
someone will take it home to mind as a child.
But when a hungry man goes out to beg,
they will set a bull-dog to bite his leg.
Twenty policemen may chock him down, too.
You see where a dog is better than you.

If you have money and things going nice,
any woman would call you honey and spice.
But if you can't give a dress or a new pair of shoes,
she'll say that she have no uses for you.
When you try to caress her, she'll tell you "Stop!
I can't carry love in the Chinee shop."
And most of you will agree that it's true,
if you have none, a dog is better than you.


Poor But Ambitious by Wilmoth Houdini
Houdini (1895-1973) lived in NY from the late 20's, a minor celebrity, performing at Cafe Society in Greenwich Village. He composed Calypsos spontaneously about patrons of the cafe.

Too proud to beg, too honest to steal.
Employers, please listen to my appeal.
I'm too proud to beg too honest to steal.
Employers please listen to my appeal.
Night and day I'm walking the street.
Nothing to eat and nowhere to sleep.
Kindheart'd employers, my case is up to you,
give me something to do.

I'm not asking for social equality,
to rank with the rich in their company;
To drive around New York in their motorcars,
or go to their penthouses and smoke their cigars.
All-I want is a job with a decent wage,
to exist now and provide for old age,
Kindheart'd employers, my case is up to you,
give me something to do.

From the day when I began to sing,
my mother told me I'd be a king.
She spoke to me confidentially,
saying"The older you get, the better you'll sing.
And when you sing your la minor songs,
it will cause trials and a sensation.
Kindheart'd employers, my case is up to you,
give me something to do.

The reason why I'm appealing to you:
I've got a wife, four children, and a mother, too.
They all reside in the West Indies,
and are depending on me financially.
Friends, many days I feel I can die,
I feel like committing suicide.
Kindheart'd employers, my case is up to you,
give me something to do.

I'm not the crooner Rudy Vallee,
nor the songbird Mr. Bing Crosby.
People, I want you to understand,
I'm not Guy Lombardo nor Paul Whiteman.
This is plain Papa Houdini,
Calypso king of the West Indies,
And every man was born to be free and to be happy
from depression and misery.


Senorita Panchita by The Tiger (rec Port of Spain 3/14/38)

Senorita Panchita,
a Spanish tourist from Venezuela, you could believe.
Senorita Panchita,
a Spanish tourist from Venezuela.
It was an afternoon in December,
when the Cottica landed in the harbor. What you think.
I got dressed immediately, walking 'round the city melancholy.

As I were walking down Frederick Street,
a pretty senorita was in chance to meet.
She said, "Buenas tardes, senor, como esta usted?"
"Mi nombre es el Tigre," that's what I said.
When you speak of beauty an' personality,
an' she were looking resplendently.
De tear in her eye spoke indisputably
she were in love with no lesser person than me.

She said, "Chico, hombre, levanta.
Yo me voy par bajo Camille."
I took her by the hand an' we began to walk.
Here de Tiger minglin' Spanish ol' talk.
Soon as I read by Royal Theatre,
she look up an' bawl, "Ay, bonito la luna."
She spoke again; I couldn't understand;
I curse the minute I wasn't a Venezuelian.

She said, "Donde vive," an' she began.
I told her, "Senorita, me no comprend."
She said, "El Tigre, mi amor, you I love."
Eyed jus' me an' was looking above.
She tol' me that her name was Carmelita Panchita,
an' her father had half of Venezuela, plantain,
An' don't speak of cocoa property,
so ben an' marcha palanter at my family.

So we took a taxi immediately,
an' in ten minutes arrive at my family.
They made introduction without no lie.
Quite suddenly she began to cry.
These were the last words I heard her say,
"Vaya con Dios, mi amor El Tigre."
An' not until then that I fully realize
she were walking with a pair of love-laden eyes.


Black But Sweet by Wilmoth Houdini

She's black and homely, and that is all.
She's black and homely, and that is all.
When men meet her, they're bound to fall, and tell her
"Mammie, girl, you're sweet, O Lord."
Go to Chaguanas and you will see
a nice black woman they call Didi.
When she press her sweet lips to mine, I said,
"Mommie, kiss poppie all the time."

Didi is the pride of my heart.
I felt so funny with her to part.
The people in the county of Caroni
can tell how Didi love Houdini.
Young boys take this advice from me.
Don't put yourself in difficulty.
For it is a positive fact,
the sweetest women in this world are black.

Don't even mind, when you get a horn
if another mule kick up in your stall.
With your black baby you are going to stay.
You cannot leave her and go away.
I said Didi, I'm going away.
But no longer I cannot stay.
Mommie, yes it is a positive fact,
sweet Houdini soon be coming back.


Convoy by Duke of Iron

One night in a dance about ten thirty,
I was privileged to meet a fine young lady.
She told me she attended the dance alone, so I said,
"Honey, may I convoy you home?"
She said, "Young man, that's rather good,
but I'm living in the neighborhood,
And I got torpedoed, I must let you know,
by travelling with a convoy some nights ago."

When I gaze at her streamline, I had to think
of her sparkling eyes and her cheeks of pink.
There was something angelic about her smile.
She appeared like a woman and yet a child.
I said, "To convoy you it is right,
for the U-boats are prowling around tonight,
And then you are safe when convoyed by me,
for my depth-charges has never missed the enemy."

She then said, "Please tell your name to me."
I said, "I'm Captain Blood, Nelson, and Montgomery."
She said, "But do you fight on land or upon the sea?"
I said, "I fight wherever I see my enemy."
With that, I was sure to convoy her home,
but she said that she'd rather journey alone.
She say, "I don't doubt you are Montgomery,
but that's the very name the last convoy gave to me."

Well, I was compelled to make a counter-attack.
I said, "I'll guard you in front and behind your back.
I'll be guardin' below and above your head,
and if I ever see a shadow, I'll kill it dead."
But while travelli' whe struck a rock,
and we repaired it on her fine dry dock,
And then we started with this refrain:
"There it is--I am torpedoed again."

Well, I shot some depth charges in such a haste,
for the U-boats were busy about the place.
The sea was rather calm and the weather fine,
so imagine me convoyin' a luxury line.
Then I put her safely in port. She say,
"You are a convoy of the best sort.
I want to thank you wholeheartedly,
Captain Blood, Nelson, and Montgomery."


My Troubles with Dorothy by Philip Garcia, aka Lord Executor (rec Port-of-Spain 2/26/38)

I was weak an' broken down,
all my nerve shattered an' gone.
Who cause dat cruelty to me,
nobody but de woman called Dorothy.

Now, Dorothy, a nice high brown,
weighing two hundred and sixteen pound,
An' I, the Executor, the feather-weight,
she made me tremble like an earthquake.

Now Dorothy would sit on my knee,
an' feed me wid de vitamins of quality,
An' all the time she would say to me,
"Executor, you losing vitality."

De D an' de O an' de R an' de A,
and de T an' de H an' de Y, dey say.
Now, Dorothy darling, you made me tame.
You wan' Executor to lose his name.

She had a habit an' a way to sit on my back,
to ride me as a race-horse upon de track,
Leavin' me in sorrow, pain an' disgrace,
jus' like Campbell riding a race.

I met her, it was in T rou Macacq.
In translated word means the monkey track.
It was there I tol' her ____ ____,
an' she tol' me, "_____ _____ you're imbecile."

She tol' me "Executor, you mus' stay with me,
brutalize me, you can even beat me.
Do what you like, you can tear up me clothes.
But, you know, I'm a woman dat love your blows."


One Morning by Lord Beginner (rec New York 3/15/35)

I went on a spree (one morning).
I went to see Dorothy.
I met in a collision.
Was me an' a policeman.

'Fore day mornin', one mornin'

I knock the door without any fear.
I said "Dorothy, darling, are you here?"
But I put myself in a calaloo.
The police was knocking the back door too.

I even called her by her sweet name, Dee.
I said "Mommy, open de door for me."
And, when I peep through the jalousie,
I saw the craf was awaitin' me.

She got right up an' she turn de lock.
But at de back door was a different knock.
In walk up the branch of the law, an' told me,
"Mister, what you come for?"

I said, "I came here to cut my shine."
Said, "But you come here for what is mine."
I had to appeal to sweet Dorothy.
She said, "Tonight, let us sleep in peace."

I said, "My boy, don't you contemplate.
For Dorothy is a heavyweight.
And if you are strong you can win de fight,
but I'm going to box like Dempsey tonight."

The night was so cold I couldn't even sleep.
Under the blanket I had to creep.
I stole a chance and I cuff de craf,
an' de policeman shout out, "Beginner half!"

'Fore day mornin', one mornin', roll if you're rollin'.

I went in a dream at de middle of the night,
as if something was holdin' me tight.
I got up an' I make her with a caress,
and I found my head on the police chest.


Warning The Children Towards Mother by King Radio (rec NY 4/4/36)

Children, the time is rather hard;
Don't treat your dear old mother bad.
Children, the time is rather hard;
Don't treat your dear old mother bad.
There is a debt we all have got to pay
for treating mothers in a naughty way.
You'll never miss the water till the well run dry,
like a mother when she closes her eyes.

Be kind to your mother from your childhood day,
who always lead you in the correct way.
Remember she nursed you to her breast,
and for many night she lost her rest.
Step by step you gradually grows;
love and behavior to mother you must show.
You'll never miss the water till the well run dry,
like a mother when she closes her eyes.

A mother grieving 'tis hard to see,
after raising her child from its infancy;
And as soon as it reaches a high degree,
give her no gratuity.
It's rather hard to treat a mother bad,
the one that you owes the greatest of regard.
You'll never miss the water till the well run dry,
like a mother when she closes her eyes.

We know that mothers are kind and brave,
to climb any mountain to protect and save.
We know she sacrificed to die for love,
and to cherish you more than a turtle dove;
And when you leave her home going across the sea,
she will sigh and cry and count her rosary.
You'll never miss the water till the well run dry,
like a mother when she closes her eyes.

Let us kneel and let us pray
and bless our mother night and day
And keep her secrets in our heart,
before the hour of death depart.
Her loving face, children, let us keep in memory,
as a photograph for all eternity.
You'll never miss the water till the well run dry,
like a mother when she closes her eyes.


Better Get On Top
I don't think this is a Calypso, but it has the same sort of humor often found in Calypsos. I learned it from an LP (actually half an LP; the other side was a different album, from a different source) called Jost Van Dyke: some people sailing around the Caribbean put in at the tiny island of Jost Van Dyke one night and found the inhabitants drinking, singing, and dancing; and they recorded it.

A honeymooning couple was in the next room,
packing up to go away in the middle of June.
Well, all of a sudden, argument break out.
Listen to the bridegroom, listen what he shout:
"You get on top, don't make noise, shut your mouth.
You and your sister, too.
You get on top, don't make noise, shut your mouth.
It's the only way it will work out."
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.

Well, I am no peeper; ask anybody.
But two of them on top, well, this I've got to see.
Down by the keyhole, man, I put me eye,
and what I saw made me laugh till I cried.
It was a man and his wife, and the sister on top.
Three of them in this funny pose.
Two of them on top, on top of their suitcase.
It was a suitcase they're trying to close.
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.
Better get on top. Ding a ling a ling.


Mother and Wife
Another folk song with Calypso-like humor. I learned it from the Jolly Boys.

Well, if your mother and your wife were drowning,
I want to know which one you would be saving?
If your mother and your wife were drowning,
I want to know which one you would be saving?
As for me, I'm holding on to my mother,
and my wife I will save a little later on.
I can always get another wife,
I can never get another mother in my life.

I heard some foolish men around the corner,
saying they'd rescue their lawful wife before their mother.
I ask the reason, and to me they answer:
they can romance their wife but not their mother.
But tho' my wife I am lavishing with gold and pearls,
my mother comes first in this blessed world.
I can always get another wife,
I can never get another mother in my life.

If there's a quarrel between you and your mum,
she may be mad, but consider what it started from.
Don't matter hasty that your mother may be,
she will never try to make this little talk so lengthy.
But your wife, from the time you have a row with her,
she may be gone with somebody to America.
You can always get another wife,
you can never get another mother in your life.

So this is what I have to say, openly:
to compare your mother with your wife, it's crazy.
Your wife is like a little lamb in front you,
she'll pretend to be loving, be loyal and true.
But go to the bath room to sponge your face.
On your return, somebody else can take your place.
You can always get another wife,
you can never get another mother in your life.


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate
  Share Thread:
More...

Reply to Thread
Subject:  Help
From:
Preview   Automatic Linebreaks   Make a link ("blue clicky")


Mudcat time: 21 October 6:04 AM EDT

[ Home ]

All original material is copyright © 1998 by the Mudcat Café Music Foundation, Inc. All photos, music, images, etc. are copyright © by their rightful owners. Every effort is taken to attribute appropriate copyright to images, content, music, etc. We are not a copyright resource.