Paul Pedersen, Jr. songs
WATER ME
C. Paul Evans Pedersen, Jr./Jim Heffernan
She were damned-fond of that that tea-pot, she were.
Sho' true!
Said she found it on her junkin' trabbles one time.
It were the sun that was a-shinnin' on it one morning,
When she spied that 'scription on the spoot.
"Water Me" she told the peoples that it said.
And sho' true...that's all it said.
"Water me".
And every day, she watered it.
Lifted up that ol' toop, and splashed some water in it.
Fult o' sand, it were.
Thats it. Sand. Nothin' mo'.
And though she kept a-waterin' it everyday, "why?" was the question
That was alwayne on 'er mind, you know,
Cause nuthin' never started a-growin'.
But she did what that ol' spoot spelt, and watered it.
And that tharn buck o' hers commenced on mo' than once occasion
To shimmyin' it off that little table she had it a-set on.
He said it smelled like a scootchin' pad...
Metally and all that, you know.
She caught 'em each time he got the slipperies though,
And 'scued it from his mits, sheen did.
Well, it come and goed about six months tammy,
And suntly, all 'er falled on the flo'.
And, after a while, she done lost the use of her arms,
And then her legs,
And then, sho' nuff, she were gone.
And still nothin' come sprouted from that ol' pot she were so fondly of, neider.
And that ol' buck of hers,
After they did the diggin' and a-buryin',
Grabbled that old pot one night betwixt the pissin'-abouts,
A-fixin' to finally chuck it in the bin out the door, you know.
But he dropped it, heen did, and out come a-rollin' these little bitty balls of light,
All formed up in a 'culiar shape there on the floor, they were.
So he runs from his house, ol' buck do,
A fetchin' on the neighbor man,
Spittin' his story like a moogiddy goo la la,
And no's a-body understandin' a word nor here nor there,
But him tellin' the schnook about the globes a-glowin' on the floor.
And as they stood there, back at the house, and a-watched,
Out the winda and straight up into the sky flewed them globes,
Neighbor man and buck nearly needin' a washin-tub, they did,
All goombly and gumbly, within' the fuzz on they arms doin' the hoo-hoo and the tingle-loo.
And them two ain't been seen back in the house since, goes the stowry.
And uppin thar, in the night sky, iffin you look a-sharper,
She sets there, on her chair, lookin' down, nowadays....yemp!
I see 'er when she comes out each night, just to the right of the Dipper, she sets.
I'm fond o' callin' 'er Cassie, yessir! Always there, she bein'.
And I stares and stares and stares.
Ya seein'. It was me that beled 'er to that old tea-pot, and doed the scrapin' on the spoot, knowin' what was to happen!
And she-in all mine, nowadays, you know.
I was never fondly of the sharin' thing. Better to not bein' than to bein' sharnt, ain't it? Uh-huh!
Now, it's the whisperin' I do everytime that we's alone each night.
I say it soft as the breeze a-rustlin': "Water Me"......
Sho' true!
C. Paul Evans Pedersen, Jr./Jim Heffernan
She were damned-fond of that that tea-pot, she were.
Sho' true!
Said she found it on her junkin' trabbles one time.
It were the sun that was a-shinnin' on it one morning,
When she spied that 'scription on the spoot.
"Water Me" she told the peoples that it said.
And sho' true...that's all it said.
"Water me".
And every day, she watered it.
Lifted up that ol' toop, and splashed some water in it.
Fult o' sand, it were.
Thats it. Sand. Nothin' mo'.
And though she kept a-waterin' it everyday, "why?" was the question
That was alwayne on 'er mind, you know,
Cause nuthin' never started a-growin'.
But she did what that ol' spoot spelt, and watered it.
And that tharn buck o' hers commenced on mo' than once occasion
To shimmyin' it off that little table she had it a-set on.
He said it smelled like a scootchin' pad...
Metally and all that, you know.
She caught 'em each time he got the slipperies though,
And 'scued it from his mits, sheen did.
Well, it come and goed about six months tammy,
And suntly, all 'er falled on the flo'.
And, after a while, she done lost the use of her arms,
And then her legs,
And then, sho' nuff, she were gone.
And still nothin' come sprouted from that ol' pot she were so fondly of, neider.
And that ol' buck of hers,
After they did the diggin' and a-buryin',
Grabbled that old pot one night betwixt the pissin'-abouts,
A-fixin' to finally chuck it in the bin out the door, you know.
But he dropped it, heen did, and out come a-rollin' these little bitty balls of light,
All formed up in a 'culiar shape there on the floor, they were.
So he runs from his house, ol' buck do,
A fetchin' on the neighbor man,
Spittin' his story like a moogiddy goo la la,
And no's a-body understandin' a word nor here nor there,
But him tellin' the schnook about the globes a-glowin' on the floor.
And as they stood there, back at the house, and a-watched,
Out the winda and straight up into the sky flewed them globes,
Neighbor man and buck nearly needin' a washin-tub, they did,
All goombly and gumbly, within' the fuzz on they arms doin' the hoo-hoo and the tingle-loo.
And them two ain't been seen back in the house since, goes the stowry.
And uppin thar, in the night sky, iffin you look a-sharper,
She sets there, on her chair, lookin' down, nowadays....yemp!
I see 'er when she comes out each night, just to the right of the Dipper, she sets.
I'm fond o' callin' 'er Cassie, yessir! Always there, she bein'.
And I stares and stares and stares.
Ya seein'. It was me that beled 'er to that old tea-pot, and doed the scrapin' on the spoot, knowin' what was to happen!
And she-in all mine, nowadays, you know.
I was never fondly of the sharin' thing. Better to not bein' than to bein' sharnt, ain't it? Uh-huh!
Now, it's the whisperin' I do everytime that we's alone each night.
I say it soft as the breeze a-rustlin': "Water Me"......
Sho' true!
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