Lyr Req: A Bunch of Nonsense

Subject: Oh how it blew Belle
From: GUEST,Jean
Date: 14 May 02 - 02:56 PM

Looking for lyrics to a song my Grandmother used to sing. "Oh how it blew Belle, we never will learn. She must have gone to heaven, she was too green to burn." Something about a lady who went out to light a stove or burner and it blew up.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Oh how it blew Belle
From: Sorcha
Date: 08 Jun 02 - 12:23 AM

Try again?

Subject: ADD: Oh how it blew Belle (partial?)
From: GUEST,999
Date: 04 Jan 10 - 12:44 AM

"Belle was the hired girl's maid.
The fire she decided to light.
She threw in a can of coal oil
And a handful of dynamite.

"There was a big explosion
It was too awful to tell
It blew a hole in the ceiling
But it also blew Belle.

"Oh, where it blew Belle
We never did learn
We think she's up in Heaven
She was too green to burn."


I don't know whether that's complete. It was posted at


http://74.125.155.132/search?q=cache:i_4Q9r-gSOAJ:www.wtopnews.com/index.php%3Fnid%3D600%26sid%3D1189767%26comments%3Dtrue+%22sh

Subject: Lyr Add: A BUNCH OF NONSENSE (Murray K. Hill)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 05 Jan 10 - 09:09 PM

You can hear this recording at The Internet Archive. This is my transcription:


A BUNCH OF NONSENSE – Vaudeville specialty
Written and performed by Murray K. Hill
Edison Amberol cylinder 4M- 41 (3), November 1908.

[SPOKEN:] Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Audience. Now, I'm gonna try and sing you four or five hundred songs. I hope you like them, because if you don't, I'm gonna sing them all over again for spite anyhow. My first one will be a little song done with herringbone sticks(?) for the benefit of the ladies. Written in Asia Minor—Asia Minor, a very difficult key: two sharps, four flats, and eight furnished rooms. A little song about the Philippines, or Philippynes, or Full-o'-Prunes, or whatever you want to call it.

[SUNG, WITH ORCHESTRA ACCOMPANIMENT:]
Goodbye, little gurrells, goodbye.
Goodbye, little gurrells, goodbye.
We're going now to the Philippaneens,
To fight for our country and to live on beans.
Don't cry, little gurrells, don't cry.
To die, little gurrells, to die.
This beats married life sublime,
For we don't fight all the time.
Goodbye, little gurrells, goodbye.

[SPOKEN:] Now I have another little thing here, a little prize recitation written by my brother, who has just graduated with high honors from the county jail. And this is the way it goes:

He stood at the bar of justice, sober but with a jag(?).
He chewed upon a toothpick while his lawyers chewed the rag.
They placed on his shoulders many crimes, so many his back was bent,
But they said he'd robbed the cheese works, robbed the cheese works, and stolen every cent.
"Silence!" yelled the grey-haired judge. The clerk yelled "Silence!" too.
"Silence!" yelled the sheriff and silence was ...(?)
And everyone yelled "Silence!" till "Silence!" filled the place,
When somebody woke the jury up with a good hard slap on the face.
"Is he guilty or not?" the judge he cried. "Guilty!" the foreman said,
"And the verdict is that he be hung twelve times until he is dead."
"Oh mercy! oh mercy!" the prisoner cried. "See, I am on my knees."
And a voice cried: "Halt! He is innocent!" and in rolled a case of cheese.
And the cheese told a simple story that the lawyers could not baulk,
How that it felt so strong one day, it simply went out for a walk.
Don't ever run down Limburger. Just stop and consider, please,
You never may know when your life may be saved by a poor little piece of cheese.

Now I have another little thing here, a little song I had the honor of singing before—before—before the Prince of Wales—became King of England.

[SUNG, WITH ORCHESTRA ACCOMPANIMENT:]
Belle was a hired-girl's name. The fire she tried to light.
She dumped in a can of coal oil and a handful of dynamite.
There was a big explosion. Oh, it was sad to tell!
It blew the stove through the ceiling and it also—blew Belle.
Oh, how it blew Belle—far, far away!
The house went up in the morning and came down next day.
Where it ever blew Belle we never did learn.
I think she's up in heaven; she was too green to burn.