Wal, I Swan

(Ebenezer Frye)
From the musical “The Yankee Tourist”, 1907
Words and music by Benjamin Hapgood Burt

The sheet music:

Wal-I-Swan – Sheet MusicDownload

Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:

Wal_I_Swan – MIDIDownload

Lyrics

  1. I run the old mill over here to Reuben’sville
    My name’s Joshua Ebenezer Frye
    I know a thing or two, just bet your neck I do
    They don’t ketch me for I’m too darn sly
    I’ve seen Bunco men, allus got the best o’ them
    Once I met a couple on the Boston train
    They says, “How be you!” I says, “That’ll do!
    Travel right along with your darn skin game”

Chorus
Wal, I swan, I mus’ be gittin’ on
Git-dap, Napoleon, it looks likc rain
Wal, l’II be switched, the hay ain’t pitched
Come in when you’re over to the farm again

  1. I drove the old mare over to the country fair
    Took first prize on a load o’ summer squash
    Stopped at the cider mill coming over by the hill
    Come home “tighter” than a drum, by gosh
    I was so durn full I gave away the old bull
    Dropped both my reins clean out on the fill
    Got hum so darn late couldn’t find the barn gate
    Ma says, “Joshua, ‘taint pos-si-bil”
  2. We had a big show here ’bout a week ago
    Pitched up a tent by the old mill dam
    Ma says, “Let’s go in to the side show
    Jus’ take a look at the tattooed man
    I see a cus’ look sharp at my pockethook
    Says, “Gimme two tens for a five”
    I says, “You durn fool, I be the constabule
    Now you’re a ‘rested sure as yer live”
  3. I drove the old bay into town yesterday
    Hitched by the track to the railroad fence
    Tied her good and strong, but a train came along
    And I ain’t seen the “hoss” or the wagin sence
    Had to foot it home, so I started off alone
    When a man says, “Hurry, yer barn’s on fire”
    But, I had the key in my pocket, you see
    So I knew that the cus’ was a fool or a liar
  4. My son Joshua went to Philadelphia
    He wouldn’t do a day’s work if he could
    Smoked cigarettes, too, way the city folks do
    What he’s coming to, ain’t no good
    He didn’t give a darn ’bout stayin’ on the farm
    Keeps writin’ hum he’s a doin’ right well
    It seems sort of funny that he’s allus out o’ money
    And Ma says the boy’s up to some kind o’ hell