The Kingston Trio...

the Limelighters, the Brothers Four, Roger McGuinn, Glenn Yarborough and folks like that are on PBS right now.

I feel like cutting the soles off my shoes, sitting in a tree and learning to play the flute.

You've gotta just take the shoes OFF. And cut off the jeans.

THEN you may go sit in a tree.

Take a guitar rather than a flute, though. And don't forget the flowers...

"So ya see, Mudhead? It's like the Pooper said. With counter-subversive educational priorities the way they are, well, it really helps our side to re-enlist."

"Is that what you're gonna do?"

"Aw, hell, no! Right after I graduate, I'm gonna cut the soles off my shoes, sit in a tree and learn to play the flute!"



— from "Don't Crush That Dwarf, Hand Me the Pliers," the Firesign Theatre

Now you want to contemplate your feet? :cry:

It's just what us beatniks do.



REV!!! HELLLLLP!!! The audience is clappin' on the 1/3!!!

And MY BRAIN HURTS!!!





Damned white people...

It's so he can wade thru the shit with ease.
White people shit.
And it smells real bad, too. :freak:

put a tax on people who stand in water.



WOAH!

:banghead: I. am. so. dense.

I remembered thinking bout how old they were then.

the Austin Lounge Lizards totally bogarted a Limelighters' song. "Grunge Song" was stolen from "Generic Up-Tempo Folk Song."









I have no idea why I posted this...

So? Should we just let this thread die a natural death and chat somewhere else? Specially since I have no idea what you're talking about (as usual).
I swear ~ I have a whole lot of catchin' up to the world to do. :shrug: Sometimes I'm not so sure I want to leave the tranquility of my ivory tower.

...shoes or not.

First song whose lyrics I learned. I was in first grade. Teacher made me sing it in front of the class. :blush:

High on the mountain and down in the valley below. It shines like the crown of an angel and fades as the mist comes and goes.
Way over yonder, night after night until dawn. A faithful old slave, come back from the grave (searchin')
For his master who is long, long gone.

In the days of the old covered wagon, when they camped on the flats for the night
With the stars growing dim on the old high gorge rim, they would watch for the Brown Mountain Light.



Long years ago a southern planter came hunting in this wild land alone,
And here, so they say, the hunter lost his way and never returned to his home.
His trusty old slave brought a lantern and searched, but in vain, day and night.
The old slave is gone but his spirit wanders on and the old lantern still casts its light.

What does it mean when Real Life (tm) becomes indistinguishable from parodies?

Roger McGuinn and Judy Collins kicked everybody else's asses.

(Did you notice Barry McGuire's bass player's mistakes? Clearly needed more rehearsal.)

Hang down your head and cry
Hang down your head Tom Dooley
Poor boy you're bound to die..."