There ain’t nobody that can sing like me…

( Photo by gerrFlu )

I lived in a place called Okfuskee
and I had a little girl in a holler tree
I said, little girl, it’s plain to see,
there ain’t nobody that can sing like me

She said it’s hard for me to see
how one little boy got so ugly
Yes, my little girly, that might be,
but there ain’t nobody that can sing like me
Ain’t nobody that can sing like me,
way over yonder in the minor key
Way over yonder in the mnor key,
there ain’t nobody that can sing like me.

We walked down by the Buckeye Creek
to see the frog eat the goggle eye bee
To hear that west wind whistle to the east
there ain’t nobody that can sing like me.

Oh my little girly will you let me see,
way over yonder where the wind blows free
Nobody can see in our holler tree
and there ain’t nobody that can sing like me

Her mama cut a switch from a cherry tree
and laid it on the she and me,
It stung lots worse than a hive of bees
but there ain’t nobody that can sing like me

Now I have walked a long long ways
and I still look back to my tanglewood days,
I’ve led lots of girls since then to stray
saying, ain’t nobody that can sing like me.

( “Way over yonder in the minor key”
Words by Woody Guthrie (1946)
Music by Billy Bragg (1997) )

* * *

( Photo by sha-sha )

Man’s love is of man’s life a thing apart,
‘Tis woman’s whole existence; man may range
The court, camp, church, the vessel, and the mart;
Sword, gown, gain, glory, offer in exchange
Pride, fame, ambition, to fill up his heart,
And few there are whom these cannot estrange;
Men have all these resources, we but one,
To love again, and be again undone.

( from “Don Juan” by Lord Byron, 1824)

( Photo by R E N O )

THE END

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