Lyrics

6) Ol’ Bull Sade - m.litton

I’s 50 miles I’ll say with a smile from San Anton
Had a shirt on my back ‘n a bag in my hand so I weren’t alone
She’s a princess, an heiress of Spain ‘n I’s a bum
But I walked pretty fine, least I kept a straight line ‘n she said I’s fun
Ah but ‘toodity-toot-toot toodity-toot-toot’ along came a car
It was long as a train ‘n driven by a famous baseball star
He said, “I’m your champion, Apple Pie...hey,who’s the lame?”
She jumped in ‘n said, “He’s just a fan, let’s get to the game!”

Chorus: Oh my dear ladies, I gotta have you know
If it’s all the same, I’ll stay to the road
But because you’re beautiful, I’ll have ya know my name
I’m ol’ Bull Sade of the Mission Parade

In 1917 outside Pairee I got my stripes
The Army taught me well how to dodge a shell ‘n stand up right
“Keep your one eye open ‘n your one eye closed to aim your gun
And watch it there, boy, cause the powder is pain, ya might lose a thumb!”
We went into battle with our fangs ‘n our rattles at a belly-crawl
It got pretty rough, the Kaiser said, “Enough, let’s hang it all...”
But the Army taught me nothin’ about the German custom
With the women ‘n the booze
And to this very day all the wounds I carry are from those two
(chorus)

From Waterville, Maine through the western plains south to Brownsville
From the Peace River Valley to my Dixie Sally in the Smokey Hills
I’ve been called a clown, marched uptown, put on parole
Tossed off a train ‘n hollered with a cane at an ol’ sideshow
But there ain’t no feelin’ like Oh-in’ ‘n a’singin’ on an open freight
Them Pullman cars ‘n new cigars ain’t for ol’ Sade
Now you can lay low or you can jump high they won’t pay you no mind
But you best watch your nose if you ride in the cold on them northern lines
(chorus)

At my death won’t ya put me to rest with Rip Van Winkle
I want the taste of ale ‘n another full barrel a’waitin’ to sample
With my trumpet ‘n my gun won’t ya beat on my drum
And gather them around
Say, “There’s to let ol’ Bull’sd flat above the bar uptown…”
Then pick up the litter round the poor ol’ critters in the city zoo
Give my Bible to a drunk ‘n my libel debt to the neighborhood Jew
Give my credit to the bank ‘n please won’t ya thank the WPA
For buildin’ them bridges, them parks ‘n ditches for me to lay
(chorus)

(Extra verse): Now I never should’ve oughter
But I lived off the daughter of City Hall
No, we’s never wed but I’s often fed by her father in the law
And just for the record never called no reverend to pawn my soul
I crossed my t’s, dotted my I’s, ‘n opened my O’s
Ah but what the hell I’m just an ol’ nail been hit too hard
I been buckled at the knees ‘n busted my teeth
Tryin’ to work a damn farm
Now I once believed in the moon’s green cheese ‘n a second try
But without no wings I’m prone to think it was the damnedest lie