This morning, for reasons too otiose to rehearse here, I was doing research on the arachnid digestive system. Googling the words “swallow” and “spider” led me, among other places, here, here, and here.
Instantly I was taken back to childhood, or rather early adolescence. I have no idea when I first heard that song; I’ve always assumed it was a folk tale, or perhaps that one of my older relatives made it up. But I do remember, vividly, singing it to my little sister when putting her to bed. Until she was maybe 8 or 9, it was one of her favorite bedtime rituals. Since she was and is one of my favorite human beings, I never minded singing the song over and over.
But that’s just me. What songs, poems, and stories instantly take you back to your childhood?
Her feet went into the air
Her face turned crimson red
She felt both dark and damp
And she wished that she were dead
The moral to my story
Is never sit down abrupt
Always look behind you
For the seat may still be up
When I was but a wee lass, our home life was. . .troubled. My oldest sister, 13 years my senior, was a huge Beatles fan, and as such, owned a hardback copy of John Lennon in His Own Write, a book of poetry by Lennon. (Complete with pen and ink illustrations by Sir Paul). When things were bad in the living area of the house, she would invite me to her room and read me Lennon’s poetry.
I was but five when I memorized:
I sat belonely down a tree
Humbled fat and small
A little lady sing to me
I could not see at all
I’m looking up and at the sky
To find such wondrous voice
Puzzledy-puzzle, wonder why?
I hear, but have no choice
‘Speak up! Come forth
You razzle me’, I potty menthol shout
‘I know you hiddy by this tree’
But still she won’t come out
Such softly singing lulled me sleep
An hour two or so
I wakeny slowly
Took a peep
But still no lady show
Then suddy on a little twig
I thought I see a sight
A tiny little tiny pig
That sing with all it’s might
‘I thought you were a lady’
I giggle (well, I may)
To my surprise, the lady
Got up and flew away
For my 10th birthday, she gave me the book. It remains one of my most treasured possessions.
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
by the men who moil for gold
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
that would make your blood run cold
Takes me back to family car trips. To this day, no one can recite Robert Service as well as my Daddy.
I only mention it because when they were in junior high, I discovered that a few of my kid’s friends didn’t know the song. I had to force them to listen to a copy. You can’t say you’ve been a kid if you don’t know that one.
You also need to know:
One fine day in the middle of the night
Two dead boys got up to fight. . .
I think there’s been a thread or two about regional variations in that one. Sadly, a lazy attempt to find them keeps turning up messages about the words being too common.
Also the one about “The worms crawl in - the worms crawl out. . .”
nobody loves me
nobody cares
i’m going to the garden and eat worms
big worms
little worms
even fat and skinny worms
i’m going to the garden and eat worms!
I remember only a line or two of a song my mom used to sing…
“Oh, we bathed his head with glue just to see what it would do. But 'twas then we seen our efforts was in vain. Like a dream, he passed away on the 41st of May, and we’ll never see our blue-haired boy again.”
If anyone can supply more lyrics, I’d be grateful.
And as far as poems go…
“…and the goblins will git YOU if you don’t watch out!”
“Once a big molicepan saw a bittle lum sitting on the sturb cone chewing gubble bum…”
“I eat my peas with honey…”
We had lots of books of poetry growing up. I could go on and on.
"…and the goblins will git YOU if you don’t watch out!"QUOTE]
I remember borrowing that book from my elementary school library in Grade Three. There are still nights when I can’t sleep and I end up with that refrain skulking through my mind.
Hmmm…I remember most of The Tiger by William Blake. It’s one of the first poems I memorized for school. Another one that I remember most of is Rags…a poem about a stray dog during WWII (I think) that a vertern ran into later after the war. A very touching poem that can still bring a tear to my eye.
Everybody hates me,
Nobody likes me.
I’m gonna go eat worms.
Big fat juicy ones,
Itty bitty little ones.
My how the little ones squirm.
First you bite their heads off,
then you suck their guts out,
Then you throw the skins away.
Nobody knows how I can live
On worms three times a day.
Now I’m trying to remember a song that my grandfather used to sing for us kids. I think I’ve only got bits and pieces of it, and the last bit may have been thrown in from another song.
Oh, I live under the viaduct (pronounced wye-a-duct) down by the vinegar (pronounced win-a-ger) works.
They tie all the children to fences and logs
They do it to keep them from biting the dogs.
Oh, I live under the viaduct down by the vinegar works
They got me for murder, but I didn’t care
They said they’d put me in a big 'lectric chair
They turned on the juice from my head to my shoes
But I was so touch that I blew out the fuse.
segue into
Oh, if I had the wings of an angel
Over these prison walls I’d fly
I’d fly to the house of my Grandma
And stuff up on blackberry pie
