Flying over Moscow in the middle of the night, Twenty-five grand above the city lights, Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door, Jump right out and yell, I want more!
If that chute don't open wide, I've got a reserve by my side, If that one should fail me too, Look out boys, I'm commin' through!
7 comments:
Who else here remembers the Yellow Bird marching song from their misspent youth?
Pretty little birdy with a yellow bill,
Perched outside my windowsill,
Coaxed him in with some crumbs of bread,
Then I crushed his little head.
Is that the one you're referring to?
Pretty little birdy with a yellow bill,
Perched outside my windowsill,
Coaxed him in with some crumbs of bread,
Then I crushed his little head.
Is that the one you're referring to?
Flying over Moscow in the middle of the night,
Twenty-five grand above the city lights,
Stand up, hook up, shuffle to the door,
Jump right out and yell, I want more!
If that chute don't open wide,
I've got a reserve by my side,
If that one should fail me too,
Look out boys, I'm commin' through!
Yuppers. There were variations. The one I learned first was:
A yellow bird, with a golden bill
He perched upon, my windowsill.
I lured him in, with a crust of bread.
And then I smashed his (edited) head.
Mr. Wolf, I liked that comment so much I ran it thrice. And I remember singing something like that, years ago in my warlike youth!
Hmmmm, Wild, I seem to recall that version.
Post a Comment