Sitting on the bank a-drinkin and a-smokin
All the people think that my heart must be broken
But I'm happy as a bumble bee
When the trees are puttin out in Spring
I don't even mind I don't have a steady job
But people treat me like I'm a hillbilly Bob
So a hillbilly Bob I'll be
Cause their rules don't mean a thing to me
Some rare birds they don't bother flying south
(Their home is where they make it)
Some rare birds they don't bother opening their mouths
(But they're singing on the inside)
You'd be a fool to say
"Why's that little bird bein quiet as a mouse
And shouldn't he be gathering to build himself a house?"
Why should he spread one wing
When he could just be sitting there
The wind would brush his feathered hair
And he'll feel like a bird of paradise
Sitting on the bank of this dirty old river
Cloggin up my lungs and beefing up my liver
There's one thing that's so plain to see
This hillbilly Bob is free
Some rare birds they don't bother flying south
(Their home is where they make it)
Some rare birds they don't bother opening their mouths
(But they're singing on the inside)
You'd be a fool to say
"Why's that little bird bein lazy as can be
Shouldn't he be keeping up with the hummingbirds and geese?"
Why should he spread one wing
When he could just be sitting there
The wind would brush his feathered hair
And he'll feel like a bird of paradise
credits
from Second Childhood,
released August 29, 2015
Marshall Brown- vocals, guitars, bass guitar, keys
Adam Mcmillan- drums
Catherine Allgrim- trombones
Barred Owls of Florence St.- mating calls
Blue Mantra Rhymes, aka Ed Cooke, pays tribute to his current home of Bangkok and its folk traditions on this delicate new LP. Bandcamp New & Notable Nov 23, 2021