Pitch'n a Fit String Band is a newgrass band based in Richmond, VA.
This song is inspired by a story a friend told about his childhood as a rambunctious little boy. He got kicked out of the house with his brother for being too wild, and built a shack on the rail-road tracks where he survived off food he stole from the trains.
Video Description:
Five members of Pitch'n a Fit String Band play lap steel, fiddle, guitar, double-bass and mandolin in a church with vaulted ceilings and wooden beams. They are dressed in garish clothes and are surrounded by an assortment of odd trinkets and doodads. Also, there is a desk.
Lyrics:
One
Two
Three
Four
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Aah
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooooooooooooh
Monkey boy and his brother got too wild for their mother so they took to the streets
And they built a little shack by the railroad tracks where the heart of the city beats
No shirt, no shoes, no rules, swingin' from the trees
(Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-aah Ooh)
With more freedom than they could handle, livin' like two monkeys
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Aah
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooooooooooooh
Two lost boys who never grew up were drinking whiskey from a cup and talkin' 'bout them good ol' days
Back then I never had a worry in mind because my train was always on time in 1970 and still today
I still call her my train and she calls out to me
(Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-aah Ooh)
I ain't never asked for nothing, but she gives me what I need
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Aah
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooooooooooooh
Say, boys!
Remember when we stole them cans of cream corn
For days the only thing we ate was cream corn
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday
(It's cream corn!)
Thursday, Friday, Saturday
(It's still cream corn!)
Even in my sleep I'll dream of cream corn
One day I'll wake up and I'll be made out of cream corn
Oh, how happy I would be
If I never ever had to see
A can of cream corn again!
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Aah
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooooooooooooh
Say, boys!
Remember when we stole those crates of malt liquor
I swear in all my days I've never been sicker
So we sold it at party halls
(To rich kids!)
Or smashed it against the wall
(Oh, hell yeah!)
Now I'm gettin' old and I'm losing my hair
And I like a little whiskey here and there
But I swear on this bald head
You ain't never ever gonna catch me dead
Drinking malt liquor again!
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh oh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Ooh
Ooh-aah-aah Ooh-aah-ahh Aah
Ooooooooooooh Ooooooooooooh
Ooooooooooooh Ooooooooooooh
(dissolves into demented monkey noises)
Oooooooooooohooooohoohohoo
Oohooooohooooh
#npr #tinydeskcontest #original #music
15 фев 2024
