Folk and Traditional Song Lyrics:
Wal I Swan(Git Up Napoleon)

Home Main Menu Folk Song Lyrics A B1 B2 B3 B4 C1 C2 C3
D1 D2 E F G H I J K L1 L2 M N O P Q R S1 S2 S3 S4 T U V W1 W2 XYZ Search Voucher Codes



Share page  Visit Us On FB


Wal, I Swan (Git Up, Napoleon)

Wal, I Swan (Git Up, Napoleon)

I run the old mill over here in ReubensviUe,
My name's Joshua Ebenezer Frye;
I know a thing or two, just bet your boots I do,
Can't fool me 'cause I'm too darn spry.
I've met your bunco men, always got the best of them;
Once I met a couple on a Boston train.
They says, "How be you ?" I says, "That'll do-
Travel right along with your darned skinned game!"

cho: Wal, I swan, I must be getting on,
     Git up, Napoleon, it looks likc rain ;
     Wal, l'II be switched, the hay ain't pitched;
     Come in when you're over to the farm again.

I drove the old mare over to the country fair,
Took first prize on a load of Summer squash.
Stopped at the cider mill coming over by the hill,
Come home tighter than a drum, by gosh!
I was so darned full I gave away the old bull,
Dropped both reins clean out on the fill;
Got home so darned late couldn't find the barn gate,
Ma says, "Joshua, 'tain't poss-i-bil!"

We had a big show here about a week ago,
Pitched up a tent by the old mill dam;
Ma says, "Let's go in to see the side show-
Just take a look at the tattooed man,"
I see a cuss look sharp at my pockethook,
Says, "Gimme two tens for a five?"
I says, "You darn fool, I be the constable-
Now you're arrested sure as you're alive."

I drove the old bay into town yesterday,
Hitched her up to the railroad fence;
Tied_her good and strong, but a train came along-
I ain't seen the horse or the wagon sense.
Had to foot it home, so I started off alone,
When a man says, "Hurry, your barn's on fire!"
Wal, I had the key in my pocket, you see,
So I knew the cuss was a fool or a liar.

My son Joshua went to Philadelphia,
He wouldn't do a day's work if he could;
He didn't give a darn about staying on the farm,
What he's coming to ain't no good.
Smokes cigarettes, too, way the city folks do,
Keeps a-writin' home he's doing right well;
Seems kind of funny, but he's always out of money-
Ma says the boy's up to some kind of hell.

From Pious Friends, Shay
RG
Download the song in PDF format for printout etc.
Download the song in RTF format for editing etc.