partly: (Pondering)
There is this little song that my mom taught me many years ago. I, of course, have taught it to my daughter. I haven't a clue as to where it came from or why any mother would teach to her child.

But far be it for me to end a tradition. And I'm going to share it with the general populace, too.

It's three o'clock in the morning
and I looked upon the wall
the cooties and the bedbugs
are having a game of ball.

The score is six to nothing
the cooties are ahead
the bedbugs hit a home run
and knock me out of bed.

Oh.....

It's six o'clock in the morning
and the jailer comes around
he feeds me bread and coffee
that weighs about a pound

The coffee tastes like turpentine
the bread is mighty stale
and that's the way they feed you
at the Lincoln County jail.


I'm thinking that it is a depression era song. Probably has to do with vagrancy and not anything, you know, truly criminal.

At least that's my thought when teaching it to my daughter.

I'm a sucker for all those old songs -- and I'm talking WWI and Depression era. There are so many great songs from that time. Songs you can sing along with. Songs for bringing people together. I'm a sucker for that.
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