SHEL SILVERSTEIN
SONGS AND STORIES
(Parachute RRLP-9007)
August/1978
1.
FATHER OF A BOY NAMED SUE
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
(Okay now years ago I wrote a song called A Boy Named Sue and that was okay
And everything except then I started to think about it and I thought
It is unfair I am looking at the whole thing from the poor kid's point of view
And as I get more older and more fatherly
I begin to look at things from an old man's point of view
So I decided to give the old man equal time okay here we go)
Yeah I lef' home when the kid was three and it sure felt good to be fancy free
Tho I knew it wasn't quite the fatherly thing to do
But that kid kept screamin' and throwin' up and pissin' in his pants til I had enough
So just for revenge I went and named him Sue
Yeah it was Gatlinberg in mid July I was gettin' drunk but gettin' by
Gettin' old and goin' from bad to worse
When thru the door with an awful scream comes the ugliest queen I've ever seen
He says my name is Sue how do you do then he hits me with his purse
Now this ain't the way he tells the tale but he scratched my face with his fingernails
And then he bit my thumb and kicked me with his high-heeled shoe
So I hit him in the nose and he started to cry and he threw some perfume in my eye
And it sure ain't easy fightin' with a boy named Sue
So I hit him in the head with a caned-back chair
And he screamed hey dad you mussed my hair
And he hit me in the navel and knocked out a piece of my lint
He was spittin' blood I was spittin' teeth
And we crashed through the wall and out into the street
A kickin and gougin' in the mud and the blood and the creme de menth
Then out of his garter he pulls a gun I'm about to get shot by my very own son
He's screamin' bout Sigmond Freud and lookin' grim uh
So I thought fast and I told him some stuff
How I named him Sue just to make him tough
And I guess he bought it cuz now I'm livin' with him
Yeah he cooks and sews and cleans up the place he cuts my hair and shaves my face
And irons my shirts better than a daughter could do
And on the nights that I can't score well I can't tell you anymore
Sure is a joy to have a boy named Sue yeah a son is fun
But it's a joy to have a boy named Sue
**********
2.
PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
(I'll tell you a story of silly young king
Who played with the world at the end of a string
But he only loved one single thing and that was just a peanut butter sandwich)
Now his scepter wand his royal gowns his regal throne and golden crowns
Were brown and sticky from the mounds
And drippings from each peanut butter sandwich
His subjects all were silly fools cuz he had passed a royal rule
That all that they could learn in school was how to make a peanut butter sandwich
He would not eat his sovereign steak he scorned his soup and his kingly cake
And told his courtly cook to bake
And nothin' nothin' nothin' but an extra-sticky peanut butter sandwich
And then one day he took a bite and started chewing with delight
But found his mouth was stuck quite tight
From that last bite of peanut butter sandwich
His brother pulled his sister pried the wizard pushed his mother cried
Oh my boy's committed suicide from eating his last peanut utter sandwich
The dentist came and the royal doc the royal plumber banged and knocked
But still those jaws stayed tightly locked oh darn that sticky peanut utter sandwich
The carpenter he tried with pliers the telephone man tried with wires
The firemen they tried with fire but couldn't melt that peanut utter sandwich
With ropes and pulleys drills and coil with steam and lubricating oil
For twenty years of tears and toil they fought that awful peanut bbutter sandwich
Then all his royal subjects came they hooked his jaws with grapplin' chains
And pulled both ways with might and main
Against against that peanut butter sandwich
Each man and woman girl and boy put down their ploughs and pots and toys
And pulled until kerack oh joy they broke right through the peanut utter sandwich
A puff of dust a screech a squeak the kin's jaw opened with a creak
And then in voice so faint and weak the first words that they heard him speak
Were how about a peanut butter sandwich
**********
3.
CAT AND RAT
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
**********
4.
GOODNIGHT LITTLE HOUSEPLANT
(Shel Silverstein - Fred Koller)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
Goodnight little houseplant asleep on the sill
I'll pull the shades so you don't catch a chill
And tomorrow in the morning don't be breaskfast for two
We'll have ham and eggs for me and nitrogen for you
Goodnight little houseplant tucked in your clay pot
Maske sure you don't catch Huntington's Rot
Remember little houseplant stay away from them bees
I've heard they may carry a social disease
Goodnight little houseplant goodnight
Here's your glass of water should I leave on the light
Tomorrow we'll talk of the things that we did
I love you little house plant who needs women and kids
**********
5.
SHOW IT AT THE BEACH
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
Oh they won't let us show it at the beach no they won't let us show it at the beach
They think we're gonna grab it if it gets within our reach
And they won't let us show it at the beach
But you can show it in your parlor to most anyone you choose
You can show it at a party with your second shot of booze
You can show it on the corner wearin' overcoat and shoes
But they won't let us show it at the beach
No they won't let us show it at the beach friends
Ah they won't us show it at the beach
Oh they're sure we're gonna grab it if it gets within our reach
So they won't let us show it at the beach
But you can show it in the movies on the cineramic screen
You can show it in the most sophisticated magazine
You can show it while you're bouncing on the high school trampoline
But they won't let us show it at the beach
But if you've got a gun it's legal to display it on your hip
You can show your butcher knives to any interested kid
But if it's made for lovin' then you'd better keep it hid
And they won't let us show it at the beach
**********
6.
DIET SONG
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
Well breakfast black coffee one slice of dry toast no butter no jelly no jam
Lunch just some lettuce two celery stalks no booze no potatoes no ham
Dinner one chicken wing broiled not fried no gravy no biscuits no pie
And this dietin' dietin' dietin' dietin' sure is a rough way to die
So pass me a carrot stick peel me a prune a glass of skim milk and that's all
Turn off the TV for the Big Mac commercial it's drivin' me straight up the wall
And I'm think' of french fries sausage and waffles spaghetti and cookies and cake
And each night I'm dreamin' of chocolate ice cream and
I'm starvin' to death when I wake all for your sake
You're fixin' the kids all those creamed mashed potatoes
But it's bouillon and water for me and you got a lock on the refrigerator
Lord knows where you're hidin' the key
And while I am starvin' for food late at night I'm starvin' for lovin' from you
But you say that when I can see my own dick you'll be glad to look at it too
So supper two pieces of cauliflower raw some beefsteak the size of a nail
One sliced tomato a small dab of slaw I swear I ate better in jail
Stop eatin' that pizza right under my nose girl that's the least you can do
And put down that candy bar while I am singin' I'm starvin' my ass off for you
And when I am dead with the insurance paid you'll look down at me and you'll grin
You'll say well the boy tried and he suffered and died
But don't he look good when he's thin
**********
7.
SURE HIT SONGWRITER'S PEN
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '73 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
Now I was hangin' round Nashville writin' songs and playin' 'em for all of the stars
Watchin' 'em laugh and hand 'em back livin' on hope and Hershey bars
So I pawned my guitar and bought a ticket home and I's headin' for the Trailway bus
When I seen an old fountain pen laying in the gutter so I stopped and picked it up
It was worn-out bent and cast aside you know kinda sorta like myself
So I sat down on the curb and wrote a little song
That told the world how both of us felt
Then I run that song down to Music Row and before I had time to spit
It's pitched and sold and cut for a record
And moving up the charts and damn it's a hit
So I wrote me another winner then I wrote me a smash again
And I's a flyin' off the ground cause I knew I'd found me a sure hit songwriter's pen
So the songs they just kept a'pourin' out and the money kept pouring in
I just couldn't miss all it took was a twist of my sure hit songwriter's pen
Remember when I won the Grammy then I won it again and again
Well none of you knew that it was all due to my sure hit songwriter's pen
I was darling with all the ladies I was a hero among the men...
Making big dough working rodeos and TV shows me and my sure hit songwriter's pen
But then one night in Wichita I was just coming off of the stage
Folks all lined up and did crawl for my autograph Lord I was a national rage
One little freckled face girl was there she said I got no pencil sir
So I signed it with my songwriter's pen and then handed the pen back to her
Four o'clock that morning I wake up with the shakes and the bends
With terror in my eyes cause good God I realized I'd lost my sure hit songwriter's pen
I offered rewards in the papers I pleaded on the Sympathy Line
And a whole lotta folks and a whole lotta pens but none of them pen's was mine
So my songs got worse and my money ran out and so did all my so-called friends
And there was no doubt I was nothing without my long-lost sure hit songwriter's pen
So I rolled like a stone down old Skid Row where I feed my blues on wine
And I rest my chops in a two-bit flop and I tell my story for a drink or a dime
And I sleep with my shoes underneath my head and I dream about days back then
When I blazed my name across the sky with my sure hit songwriter's pen
Somewhere in Wichita some little girl who's a freckled face nine or ten
Is doing her arithmetic homework tonight with a sure hit songwriter's pen
God bless ya honey you got yourself my sure hit songwriter's pen
**********
8.
SMOKE OFF
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
In the laid back California town of sunny San Raphael
Lived a girl named Pearly Sweetcake you probly knew her well
Shed been stoned fifteen of her eighteen years and the story was widely told
That she could smoke 'em faster than anyone could roll
Her legend finally reached New York that Grove Street walk-up flat
Where dwelt The Calistoga Kid a beatnik from the past
With long browned lightnin fingers he takes a cultured toke
And says Hell I can roll ‘em faster Jim than any chick can smoke
So a note gets sent to San Raphael For the Championship of the World
The Kid demands a smoke off well bring him on says Pearl
I'll grind his fingers off his hands he'll roll until he drops
Says Calistog I'll smoke that chick till she blows up and pops
So they rent out Yankee Stadium and the word is quickly spread
Come one come all who walk or crawl price just two lids a head
And from every town and hamlet over land and sea they speed
The world's greatest dopers with the Worlds greatest weed
Hashishers from Morocco hemp smokers from Peru
And the Shamnicks from Bagun who puff the deadly Pugaroo
And those who call it Light of Life and those that call it boo
See the dealers and their ladies wearing turquoise lace and leather
See the narcos and the closet smokers puffin all together
From the teenies who smoke legal to the ones who've done some time
To the old man who smoked reefer back before it was a crime
And the grand old house that Ruth built is filled with the smoke and cries
Of fifty thousand screaming heads all stoned out of their minds
And they play the national anthem and the crowd lets out a roar
As the spotlight hits The Kid and Pearl ready for their smokin' war
At a table piled up high with grass as high as a mountain peak
Just tops and buds of the rarest flowers not one stem branch or seed
Maui Wowie Panama Red and Acapulco Gold
Kif from East Afghanistan and rare Alaskan Cold
Sticks from Thailand Ganja from the Islands and Bangkok's Bloomin' Best
And some of that wet imported shit that capsized off Key West
Oaxacan tops and Kenya Bhang and Riviera Fleurs
And that rare Manhatten Silver that grows down in the New York sewers
And there's bubblin' ice cold lemonade and sweet grapes by the bunches
And there's Hersheys bars and Oreos ‘case anybody gets the munchies
And the Calistoga Kid he sneers and Pearley she just grins
And the drums roll low and the crowd yells go and the worlds first Smoke Off begins
Kid flicks his magic fingers once and zap that first joints rolled
Pearl takes one drag with her mighty lungs and woosh that roach is cold
Then The Kid he rolls his Super Bomb thatd paralyze a moose
And Pearley takes one super hit and slurp that bomb defused
Then he rolls three in just ten seconds and she smokes 'em up in nine
And everybody sits back and says this just might take some time
See the blur of flyin fingers see the red coal burnin bright
As the night turns into mornin and the mornin fades to night
And the autumn turns to summer and a whole damn year is gone
But the two still sit on that roach-filled stage smokin' and rollin' on
With tremblin hands he rolls his jays with fingers blue and stiff
She coughs and stares with bloodshot gaze and puffs through blistered lips
And as she reaches out her hand for another stick of gold
The Kid he gasps Goddamn it bitch there's nothin' left to roll
Nothin left to roll screams Pearl Is this some twisted joke
I didn't come here to fuck around man I come here to smoke
And she reaches cross the table and grabs his bony sleeves
And she crumbles his body between her hands like dried and brittle leaves
Flickin' out his teeth and bones like useless stems and seeds
And then she rolls him in a Zig Zag and lights him like a roach
And the fastest man with the fastest hands goes up in a puff of smoke
In the laid-back California town of sunny San Raphael
Lives a girl named Pearly Sweetcake you probly know her well
She's been stoned twenty-one of her twenty-four years and the storys widely told
How she still can smoke 'em faster than anyone can roll
While off in New York City on a street that has no name
There's the hands of the Calistoga Kid in the Viper Hall of Fame
And underneath his fingers there's a little golden scroll
That says Beware of Bein' the Roller When There's Nothin' Left to Roll
**********
9.
THEY HELD ME DOWN
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
It was Sat night at the slammer the gavel was falling like a hammer
As they dragged in every freak from off the road
One by one they entered the cell and the stories that they had to tell
Were all different but all seemed to end on the very same note
They held me down and put it on my nose they even sprinkled a little bit on my clothes
Yeah I know what you're thinkin' but I ain't one of those
No they held me down and put it in my nose
This wino in the corner got up and shook himself out
He said wWell they held me down and poured it down my throat
That's what they did
They even planted the bottle in my coat anybody want some
Yeah… the reason why my pants so wet yes they pushed me off the boat
After they held me down and poured it down my throat
And this chick in the next cell she said I heard you guys talking
And let me tell you something he held me down and he put it you know where
Ohhhh… I told him I was a virgin but he didn't care noooo the pig
Ahhhh you see his wallet's in my purse what's it doing there
He held me down and put it you know where
And then this cat got up well he half got up
He lifted his head and ae said hey man hey held me down and they put it in my vein
They even held a pistol to my brain or I wouldn'ta done it
Ohhh.. these scars on my arms are where I crashed through the window pane
Tryin' to get awaaaaaaaaay when they held me down and put it in my vein
And then this cat.. a rollie-eyed cat in a raincoat and shoes
And the bottom of his pants were cut off at the knees he said
She held me down and put it in my face
Oh the disgrace
And that's the fact on which I'm gonna base my case
She was overweight and underage and we was at my place
But she held me down and put it in my face
They held me down and made me write this song
**********
10.
SCUM OF THE EARTH
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
There was a group called called Scum of the Earth
And they say they got their birth
In a basement bar on Greek Street down in Soho
The bass man he smoked grass and the drummer he kicked ass
And the lead guitar ate speed while everybody boogied
The drummer's name was Mavis he was a twice convicted rapist
They say he learned to play in a garage band in Balham
He'd cut out your heart for a dime and he kept lousy time
But the rest of the band was too damned scared to tell him
And The Scum of the Earth they just keep boogyin' on
Higher and higher until the fire was burned out and gone
And The Scum of the Earth they just keep boogyin' on
Now the bass man's names was Spiker he dressed like a black jacket biker
But underneath his leathers he wore black lace silk panties
They say he sang his sweet love number directly to the drummer
While he kept his eye on the guitar player's fanny
On lead guitar was Static he was a hey health-food fanatic
He lived on berries and nuts and had scurvy and rickets
He did his Yoga excercisin' and he kept on tryin' and tryin'
'til finally he could bend all the way over and lick it
And The Scum of the Earth they just keep boogyin' on
Higher and higher until the fire was burned out and gone
And The Scum of the Earth they just keep boogyin' on.
Now one night Scum of the Earth they was playin' for all they was worth
Guitar screams and wails and cymbal crashes louder faster and higher
Till their electric cords caught fire and the whole damn band was burned to a pile of ashes
And The Scum of the Earth they just keep boogyin' on
Higher and higher until the fire was burned out and gone
And The Scum of the Earth they just keep boogyin' on
**********
11.
NEVER BITE A MARRIED WOMAN ON THE THIGH
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '62 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
Never bite a married woman on the thigh oh my
Cause she just can't rub it off no matter how she'll try
And when she gets home at night her man will ask her why
Then she'll say it's just a birthmark or some other silly lie
But he'll get suspicious and then he will start to pry
Then she'll get hysterical and she will start to cry
And he'll say I don't blame you but tell me who's the guy
So she'll admit to everything and he will say bye-bye
And he'll buy an airline ticket and he'll fly across the sky
And then he'll come and find you and he'll punch you in the eye
Then he'll rent a cheap hotel room and he'll hang himself with his tie
And when she gets the news she'll take an overdose of sleeping
Tablets and she's gonna lie on the couch and die
So never never never never never never never bite a married woman on the thigh
**********
12.
SOMEONE ATE THE BABY
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
Someone ate the baby it's rather sad to say
Someone ate the baby so she won't be out to play
We'll never hear her whiney cry or have to feel if she is dry
We'll never hear her asking why why why someone ate the baby
Someone ate the baby it's absolutely clear
Someone ate the baby cause the baby isn't here
We'll give away her toys and clothes we'll never have to wipe her nose
Dad says that's the way it goes someone ate the baby
Someone ate the baby what a frightful thing to eat
Someone ate the baby though she wasn't very sweet
It was a heartless thing to do the policemen haven't got a clue
I simply can't imagine who would go and (burp) eat the baby
**********
13.
PARANOID
(Shel Silverstein)
« © '78 Evil Eye Music, BMI »
Everybody says I'm paranoid they all think I'm crazy
They all smile to my face but they'd like to see me die
They put poison in my coffee they put ground glass in my oatmeal
They put spiders in my tennis shoes and shit in my pecan pie
It's hard to stop and figure out where did it all begin
You see my father wanted a little girl and my mother wanted twins
And my grandpa admired Hitler so everything I did was wrong
And I'm gonna stop now cause even though you're smilin' I know you hate this song
Yeah and I know you're only listenin' cause you don't wanna hurt my feelin's
And you're just waitin' for me to leave so you can laugh about my open fly
You put the poison in my coffee you put the ground glass in my oatmeal
You put the spiders in my tennis shoes and you shit in my pecan pie
I know don't deny it I know I know I know
**********