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Lyr Req: Poor Man's Heaven

Megan L 30 Mar 00 - 12:37 PM
mark gregory 02 Sep 05 - 08:47 PM
Jim Dixon 04 Sep 05 - 02:55 PM
Megan L 04 Sep 05 - 03:09 PM
GUEST,Kevin McCloskey 09 Apr 13 - 08:00 PM
Jim Dixon 10 Apr 13 - 07:58 AM
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Subject: Poor Mans Heaven
From: Megan L
Date: 30 Mar 00 - 12:37 PM

On the hunt for a song my father used to sing -once more.

All I can remember are snatches of the words, probably not even in the right order.

"in poor man's heaven we'll run the whole place There's nothing up there but good luck and the (strawberry) pie is (this grew every time we sang it)high And the whipped cream they brought in a truck.

It also contained the lines "We'll sleep in a pulman at night And if someone should dare to ask for our fare We'll get up and put out his lights."


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Poor Mans Heaven
From: mark gregory
Date: 02 Sep 05 - 08:47 PM

my father used to sing this too and we had a Topic 78 with it back in 1950s

I have seen it in a 1960s Singout magazine and from what I remember it was sent by A.L.Lloyd (perhaps he collected it) with a note that it was collected in East Anglia in the 1930s

I don't remember all the lyrics either bu just discovered a new CD called "Poor Man's Heaven: Blues & Tales of the Great Depression" which has track 9. Poor Man's Heaven - Carson Robison

the CD is available from Amazon at

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/B000092Q48/104-7013035-4740753?v=glance

hope that helps

regards

Mark


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Poor Mans Heaven
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 04 Sep 05 - 02:55 PM

POOR MAN'S HEAVEN is sung by Bud Billings and Carson Robison on "Poor Man's Heaven: Blues & Tales of the Great Depression," which is volume 6 in a series of CDs called "When the Sun Goes Down: The Secret History of Rock 'n' Roll" published on the Bluebird label. Here are a couple of excerpts from sound samples:

"...that grow by a lakeful of beer.

We'll live on champagne and ride on the train
And sleep in the Pullman at night,
And if someone should dare to ask for our fare...."

"...In poor man's heaven, the land of the free,
There's nothin' up there but good luck.
There's strawberry pie that's twenty feet high
And whipped cream they bring in a truck.

"We'll own all the banks and shoot all the cranks
And we won't give a durn who we hurt;
And the millionaire's son won't have so much fun
When we put him to shovelin' dirt...."

* * *

By the way, there is another song by Mike Cross called POOR MAN'S HEAVEN, unrelated, I think, to the above song:

Down on my knees, and a seven-come-eleven,
A rich man's hell is a poor man's heaven.
It all just depends on where you stand,
Whether you're in the desert or the Promised Land.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Poor Mans Heaven
From: Megan L
Date: 04 Sep 05 - 03:09 PM

thanks jim


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Poor Mans Heaven
From: GUEST,Kevin McCloskey
Date: 09 Apr 13 - 08:00 PM

From:

Sing Out!
Volume 11, No. 3
Summer 1961


"...sent out way by the noted English folklorist, A.L. Lloyd who learned it from an East Anglian farm laborer, Mr. Jumbo Brightwell, of Eastbridge, Suffolk, in 1935. Lloyd says: "It seems clearly to be an American song, and i take it to be of Wobbly origin, but i can't remember ever seeing it in American print. The singer said he'd known it so long, he couldn't be sure where he'd got it from; he thought he'd possibly learned it off a cylinder record."


Kind friends, gather near, I want you to hear
a dream that I had last night
There's a land o'er the sea for you and for me
where won't have to struggle and fight

There's real feather beads, where we'll lay our heads,
in a nice private room for each one
There's shoes with soles and pants with out holes,
And no work up there to be done.

In Poor Man's heaven We'll have our own way.
There's nothing up there but good luck
There's strawberry pie that's twenty feet high,
And whipped cream they bring in a truck.

We'll know how it feels in an automobile,
With a footman to open the door,
And if someone gets smart, we'll take 'em apart,
And spread 'em all over the floor.

In Poor Man's heaven We'll have our own way.
And each man will help his own mate,
And if someone comes up to sell us a pup,
We'll soon chuck him over the gate.

We'll run all the banks, and shoot all the cranks,
And we won't give a darn who we hurt,
And the millionaire's song won't have so much fun,
When we put him to shoveling dirt.

In Poor Man's heaven We'll have our own way.
And we won't have nothing to fear,
And we'll eat all we please from ham and egg trees
That grow by the fountains of beer.

We'll live on champagne and ride in a train,
And sleep in a pullman at night,
And if someone should dare to ask for out fare,
We'll haul off and put out his light.

In Poor Man's heaven we'll live at out ease;
No skilly and beans over there;
But we'll be fed on breakfast in bed,
and served by a fat millionaire

We won't have to yearn for money to burn,
Because we'll own a big money press
That we'll run at full speed and make all we need,
And we'll be the guards of the rest.

The landlords we'll take and tie to a stake,
And make 'em give back all our dough,
Then we'll let 'em sweat and learn what they'll get
When they go to the hot place below.

In Poor Man's heaven We'll own our own home,
And we won't have to work like a slave,
But we'll be proud to sing right out loud,
"The land of the free and the brave!"


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Subject: Lyr Add: POOR MAN'S HEAVEN (Carson Robison et al.)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 10 Apr 13 - 07:58 AM

POOR MAN'S HEAVEN
As sung by Bud Billings, Carson Robison, and Frank Luther on "Poor Man's Heaven: Blues and Tales of the Great Depression"

Now, friends, gather near; I want you to hear
A dream that I had last night:
There's a land o'er the sea for you and for me
Where we won't have to struggle and fight.
There's real feather beds where we'll lay our heads,
And a nice private room for each one.
There's shoes with soles, and pants without holes,
And no work up there to be done.
In Poor Man's Heaven, the land of the free,
There's nothin' up there but good luck.
There's strawberry pie that's twenty feet high,
And whipped cream they bring in a truck.

We'll own all the banks, and shoot all the cranks,
And we won't give a dern who we hurt,
And the millionaire's son won't have so much fun,
When we put him to shovelin' dirt.
We'll know how it feels in automobiles,
With a footman to open the door,
And folks that gets smart, we'll take 'em apart,
And spread 'em all over the floor.
In Poor Man's Heaven we'll run the whole place,
And we won't have nothin' to fear.
We'll eat all we please from ham-and-egg trees
That grow by a lake full of beer.

We'll live on champagne and ride on the train,
And sleep in the pullman at night,
And if someone should dare to ask for our fare,
We'll haul off and put out his light.
We'll take a night rail and open the jail,
And let all the poor men out quick,
And the sheriff's own mug we'll throw in the jug
And then throw the key in the crick.
In Poor Man's Heaven we'll have our own way,
No salt-pork and beans over there,
But we will be fed our breakfast in bed,
And served by a fat millionaire.

We won't need to yearn for money to burn,
'Cause we'll own a big money press.
We'll run 'er full speed and make all we need,
And light our cigars with the rest.
The landlords we'll take and tie to a stake,
And make 'em give back all our dough,
Then we'll let 'em sweat and learn what they get
When they go to that hot place below.
In Poor Man's Heaven we'll own our own home,
And we won't have to work like a slave,
Then we will be proud to sing right out loud,
"The land of the free and the brave!"


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Mudcat time: 15 August 6:58 AM EDT

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