The wandering ballad singer; Bums and vagrants

And I will get my blog again if the weather be fair I'll call my hair and I'll. Washington State University presents the wandering ballad singer Barry took in with songs that vividly describe the history and folklore of a pioneering country. And there's always something new and folklore mostly because the people who make up the stories and songs are constantly changing and the world they live in is different from one year to the next. During the Depression years many people have poetic ability were forced to leave their jobs and become migratory workers. Some may good and others landed in jail. Some became vagabonds who still wander back and forth across the country working occasionally for their survival spending lots of time in jail for their vagrancy. All of these people bums is the usual term. Made up stories and songs about their troubles and adventures.

Probably one of the most famous of these is the simple old song I learn from Terry in Carolyn's Bybee in Buckeye Cove North Carolina and they call it going down the road feeling bad and I'm going on the road feel and go on the road feelin bad lower and lower and I wanna be treated me way down in jail on my knee had me way down and on my knees they had me down in jail and he's Lord Lord and to be treated. Me on that corn bread and corn bread and she fed me on corn bread and cheese Lord love her to be treated. Go in where the winter winds don't blow. Go in with the wind who're and don't know where the winter

winds don't blow. Lord Lord created this. I'm going where the climate suits my I'm going where the climate suits my clothes. I'm going to wear the climate suits my clothes lowered lowered and I gonna be treated this way. I'm going where the water tastes like wine and I'm going where the water tastes like wine Boman water tastes like Durban time low and lower and I want to be treated this way. I'm going down that road. And I'm going down the road and I'm going down the road feeling lower and lower and I want to be treated this way. The pleasures of the open road are pretty romantic for most of us at least in the summertime but in the winter the only vagabonds are those who are not in it for fun. Songs have been made up about hobos dying in the

woods in boxcars and besides no highways but here's one about a bum known only as old Smokey The Old Smokey Joe. Cold rainy day rain back some. Smokey Joe already. Cold rainy day. Rainy day some of go back some of. My railroad fare. Take me back where

I was born. Or the rocks can be my pillow or the sand can be my band. I'll be back some old code rainy rainy day some old code back some old granny. Oh Smokey Joe he died on the road. During the depths of the depression part of the vagabond crowd was made up of men who had lost their jobs at factories and fruit farms all over the country and I had heard some of the labor songs of Joe Hill and others. Many of the songs were sung to the tune of hymns partly because most people already knew the tune partly because it was a way to parody the comfortable life of the healthy church goer. Here's a song that was

passed around among the bums and labor organizers alike. When springtime we have fun with our jobs again. GIVE US A. Spring time is when I'm just out of jail. I got it all when I LOVE AGAIN. Give us a hand out to us again. And I went up to the house. I knocked on the door. A lady come out says you been here before. I'm a bum again. Give us a handout to revive us again. And I went up to the house first some bread

says the baker is dead again and give us a bus. I went to a house and I asked for some pants. A lady says we don't clothe no tramps out again. Give us a handout to revive us. I went into a bar and I bummed for a drink he gave me a glass and he showed me the sink. I'm a bum bum again. Give us a hand to revive us can heat work and work on me. I'm so hungry I'm a bum bum again. Give us a hand

or why don't you like other men do. Oh how can we work when there is no work to do. Give us a story of Imus and and oh why don't you pose for me. I've done it before and you starved my family again. Give us a damn. Why don't you like other men do. When the sky is so blue and I'm a bum bum again I'll give a sign. The great folk singer bird alive spent part of his life as a vagabond hitching his way from coast to coast and writing the empty box guys. The songs he picked up then were ones that later helped revive the

folk song art in America. The experiences he had probably had a great deal to his present vocation the interpretive characters on stage. This is a song he learned and made famous across the country and it was so much connected with him that when I heard a vagrant singing parts of this one day I asked him where he learned and replied that he'd heard it in a jailhouse sung by Burl on a summer day in the month and down a shady lane through the sugarcane he was looking in for his life and as he roamed the law he sang the song of the land of milk and honey where abundance stayed for many a day. They won't need any money. Oh the buzzin of the bees in the SIGAR injuries near the water at the lemonade springs where the Blue Bird Sings in that big a rock and a mountain. In the bigger Rocky Mountain the cops have wooden legs. The Bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hands lay soft boiled. The

farmer's trees are full of fruit and his barns are full of oh I'm bound to go where there are no snow where the sleigh don't fall in the wind don't blow on that mountain all the bugs in the bees and the cigarette trees near the stove at the lemonade springs where the Blue Bird Sings on that big rock in the Big Rock Candy Mountain you never change your song and the little streams of alcohol going down the rocks and the brakeman have to tip their hats and the railroad cops are blind There's a lake of stove and of whiskey you can paddle all around in a big going to that beggar. Oh the buzzing of the bees and the cigarette near the song. I found that the lemonade springs where the Blue Bird Sings in that big rock in the big rock and the mound the jails are made of tin

and you can bust right out again as soon as they put you in. There ain't no short handled shovels no axes saws or pegs. Oh I'm a gonna stay where they sleep all day. Well they boiled in oil the inventor of toil in that big a rock and all the buzz and the bees and the cigarette trees near the saw at the lemonade springs where the Blue Bird Sings in that big a rock and a mountain. Probably the finest song ever made up by the bums of our country is this one which folk singer Al Reuben collected in the Catskills of New York. The turkey you hear about in the song is a small bundle of belongings. The vagabond carries over his shoulder. I'm just a moron lucky chap. I'm very fond of her. I walked the road from morning till night I braid my shoes art form my feet are sore but still I

don't complain. I get up and I always mature and I can make walk the road again my boy. On the Road Again if the weather be fair I love my hair and I walk. From Salt Lake City to Buffalo I've dreamt that although I slept in brick yard at home log barns until a break of day my clothes were torn my feet were sore but still I didn't complain. I get up in the most of maternity and I walk and and I walk again my boy as I walk the road again if the weather be fair I don't comb my hair and I know I can move. I work for the Denver and Rio Grande and got one dollar a day and

worked hard for 11 boys and I hardly think it pays. They told us we'd get our raise in if we do. I won't complain if we don't. But Turkey and I go along and I work along for about a month until I got some. I wound up on a spree in my book as a money and when does Not one red cent did I have left but still didn't play and I got up on the most mature and long. Oh now I'm on the road for a place a Miss Fortune You are cruel. How could you treat me so devil that sits upon my back. That is what makes me so. But soon I'll strike a job again.

That's about it for this time. Walk again. Again if the weather be fair I'll call my hair and I'll listen again next week when very token day wondering balancing her returns with more songs in balance the preceding was transcribed and was produced by the Radio TV services of Washington State University. This is the ne E.B. radio network you have.