American Old Time Song Lyrics: 07 The Windy Man From Brooklyn
Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 7
The Windy Man From Brooklyn.
I'll tell you of a windy man,
He talked so much he couldn't stand;
He made more noise than a Dutch brass baud,
This windy man from Brooklyn.
Whenever he started in to talk,
The people were willing to take a walk;
You could hear him chinning ten miles from New York.
This windy man from Brooklyn.
He talked of this and he talked of that.
And he.'d talk you out of jour coat and hat:
He'd lie down in the gutter and talk to the dirt.
He talked a big Chinaman out of his shirt.
lie went up here to Harlem and opened his gob,
He talked a poor tarrier out of a job;
He spoke to a lady, and whatever he said,
He gave her a buzz. Uie poor woman fell dead.
He talked through his eyes, and he talked through his nose.
He talked through the button-holes right In his clothes;
He'd ask for a chew and he'd grub for a smoke,
If you had any money he'd talk you dead broke.
He went out with a girl one night for a walk.
He forced her to marry him just through his talk;
He talked till it rained, he talked till It snowed,
You couldn't imagine the way he blowed.
He talked a canaler stiff' staving blind drunk,
He sailed on his boat, And he talked till It sunk;
He'd talk a man sick, and he'd talk a man well,
He'd talk and he'd chin till you'd wish him in---;
And that is the way he used to chin,
The windy man from Brooklyn;
The windy man from Brooklyn.
He talked and chinned until he was hoarse.
He talked a policeman off from the force;
He talked a ragpicker right out of his bag.
He was buzzing a fat woman just for a gag.
He talked a bartender right out of his saloon,
He'd talk to a Chinaman, then to a coon;
lie spoke to a horse, and he chinned to a mule.
He wearied the children coming from school.
He talked kinder slow and then kinder quick.
He talked and he blowed till he made a pig sick;
He talked to a spoon and he talked to a knife,
And he tried for to talk a man out of his wife.
He talked like a geyser, and he chinned like a jay.
He was always giving himself dead away;
lie talked his landlord right out of his rent,
lie talked a hole through a big copper cent.
He went into a liquor Store Saturday night.
And he talked the proprietor into a fight;
At last the boss got weary And tired.
And straight at his Nobbs a beer mallet fired.
It struck this old wind-bag on the top of the head.
When the cops picked him up, why, old windy was dead;
And the day he was buried his folks they did cry,
They burled him up, and he hollered good-bye.
lie talked to the Lord till his sins were forgiven,
I'm told that he talked his way right into heaven,
And that was the last dispatch that he got
From the windy man in Brooklyn;
From the windy man in Brooklyn.