Barefoot Boy With The Boots On

Barefoot Boy with Boots On Words by Asa Martin, Music Traditional John: fiddle & vocal George: guitar Oh, the night was dark and cloudy The moon was shining bright The stars were casting burning rays Oight Lightening struck the cowshed And the cud Moonlight set the prairie on fire In the moods Oh, the barefoot boy with boots on Come a-shuffling down the street His pants were full of pockets And his boots were full of feet He was born when he was a baby His grandma’s pride and joy His only sister was a girl And his brother was a boy He never was a triplet But he always was a twin His legs were fastened to his knees Just below his chin And his feet were fastened to his ankles Several inches from his shoulder And when he grew up he became a man And everyday got older He married him a woman Who quickly became his wife For you see he could not marry her And maintain a single life Her head was full of notions And her mouth was full of tongue They raised a dozen children All born when they was young Six boys, five girls And then another child They never tried to raise them right Just let them grow up wild And late in the evening They’d send them off to bed Not sure if they was living And they wished they all was dead The youngest was a baby But the oldest was one first The good one was the bad one But the bad one was the worst They never knew their ages No, they never seemed to care ‘Cause they knew they had a birthday And it came ‘round once a year They never knew their father’s age But they always had a hunch That he was born before their time Was the oldest of the bunch And when they died they could not speak Their names they could not tell The girls all went to heaven And the boys all went to The organ peeled potatoes Lard was rendered by the choir When the parson rang the dishrag Someone set the church on fire “Hole smokes!” the preacher shouted As he madly tour his hair Now his head resembles heaven For there’ll be no parting there