Campfire songs sometimes get out of hand. When a few teenagers sitting around a campfire come up with certain ditties, it makes my skin crawl.
Great green gobs of greasy, grimy golfer guts;
Mutilated monkey meat;
Concentrated birdies feet.
All dumped in the middle of a muddy street …
And I forgot my spoon!
Sitting around a campfire one hot night while camping in one of Michigan’s campgrounds, we hear a group singing this ditty. Where it came from? Nobody knows.
Oh, I remember the night that Willie died.
He died early in the morning, late at night … late at night.
Oh, the cows were singing sweetly and the birds were eating hay,
And the sun and moon and stars were shinning bright . … shinning bright.
Twas the fortieth day of May, that Willie past away,
He died harder than her ever died before … died before.
He was sitting in a chair, but he didn’t like it there,
So he got up and died upon the floor … on the floor.
You can tell that he was dying by the color of his breath.
You can hear the blossom nipping in the bud … in the bud.
But the doctor said the only way to save our darling boy
Was to stop the circulation of his blood … of his blood.
So we gently laid his head in a melting pot of lead,
And we laid our darling Willie down to rest … down to rest.
But it was a dirty shame, for that night some burglars came
And they stole that mustard plaster off his chest … off his chest.
So we filled him up with glue and we tried to bring him to,
But we only brought him eight or nine or ten … nine or ten.
So we laid him on his side and he sneezed and coughed and died
And he up and coughed and sneezed and died again … died again.