Tuesday, April 29, 2008

On the Bridge At Midnight


Thought I'd share the lyrics to some of the songs my father and grandfather passed on to my brother, myself and various cousins in the family. I never was able to find out where On the Bridge At Midnight song came from. The other two I have heard in different form/versions. Do you have any that your family passed on to you?

On the bridge at midnight,
I heard a rooster shout
"Cock-a-doodle-do-de-do
Me guts is coming out."


Oh my name is St.Johnson,
I come from Wisconsin,
I work in a lumber yard there.
All the people I meet,
on the street,
ask me what is my name....

and I say..

Oh my name is St.Johnson,
I come from Wisconsin,
I work in a lumber yard there.
All the people I meet,
on the street,
ask me what is my name...

and I say...
(this was repeated over and over again until all us kids would groan, roll on the floor and beg my grandfather to stop.)


Sam, Sam the monkey man,
washed his face in the frying pan,
dried it off with a donkeys tail,
scratched his tummy with his
big toenail.


My grandfather also taught us to whistle with our hands. We cupped our hands together and blew threw a small hole between the two thumbs. (It sounded like the whistling in the old Clint Eastwood westerns). It took me many months to be able to do it, but when I did I was so proud! My father taught us how to blow on a blade of grass (we've all done that, right?). We used to drive my mother crazy with all the squeaking and hrrummphing and squealing we did. I'm sure she told my father how much she appreciated his teachings.

7 comments:

  1. I love these memories & silly song lyrics. They make me think of my Dad & Grandfather and those are good thoughts. Thanks for the nice comment you left on my blog & I hope you have a wonderful day!
    Sharon:)

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  2. My dad loved silly songs and ditties. He and his buddies (the OFGs) would sing old ads from TV and radio. Thanks for the memory.

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  3. No songs have been passed down through our family. Probably best considering we sound like cats in a blender when we try to sing.

    There is a particular poem that sticks in my mind. My grandfather's commencement program for first grade was coming up and he'd been assigned to write or find a nifty poem to recite. Books at home were scarce, so he turned to his older brothers for advice and help. They taught him this little poem, which he taught to me when I was in kindergarten.

    Thunder rolls,
    lightning flashes.
    Broke grandma's shit pot,
    slam to smashes.

    I imagine the spanking I got for my recitation of said poem rivaled the one he got. ;-)

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  4. I never could get the grass whistling down...darn it!

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  5. Sharon - thanks for stopping by!
    Lou - my brother and I used to play "radio show", inventing scripts and commercials... wish we had taped one or two...I remember believing they were quite hilarious!
    Fuzzy - You're welcome!
    Jim - my pleasure!
    Sniggs- Your mama must a been so PROUD!
    KV - practice makes perfect... must pass this talent on to the next generation!

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