Gross Songs Here are some gross songs. Table of Contents * Pink Pajamas * The MacTavish Brothers * The Little Green Frog * Oh Tom the Toad * Announcements! Announcements! Announcements! * The Cremation of Sam McGee * The MacScouter Page -- Go to the MacScouter page, if you arrived here from somewhere else. Pink Pajamas (To the tune of "Battle Hymn of the Republic") Oh, I wear my pink pajamas in the summer when it's hot, And I wear my flannel nighties in the winter when it's not, And sometimes in the springtime, and sometimes in the fall, I jump right in between the sheets with nothing on at all. Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, what's it to ya? Balmy breezes blowin' through ya With nothing on at all! -- Thanks to Anthony M. Becker, becker@oakland.edu The MacTavish Brothers (to the tune of "The Irish Washerwoman") Oh, MacTavish is dead and his brother don't know it, His brother is dead and MacTavish don't know it, There're both of them dead in the very same bed... And neither one knows that the other is dead. -- Thanks to Anthony M. Becker, becker@oakland.edu The Little Green Frog Gaaloomph went the little green frog one day Gaaloomph went the little green frog Gaaloomph went the little green frog one day And the frog went gloomph gloomph gloomph But we all know frogs go [clap] laa dee daa dee daa [clap] laa dee daa dee daa [clap] laa dee daa dee daa We all know frogs go [clap] laa dee daa dee daa They don't go gloomph gloomph gloomph And we all know frogs go SQUELCH when you step on them SQUELCH when you step on them SQUELCH when you step on them We all know frogs go SQUELCH when you step on them They don't go gloomph gloomph gloomph And we all know frogs go POP in the microwave POP in the microwave POP in the microwave We all know frogs go POP in the microwave They don't go gloomph gloomph gloomph And well know frogs go WHZZZ in the blender WHZZZ in the blender WHZZZ in the blender We all know frogs go WHZZZ in the blender They don't go gloomph gloomph gloomph And we all know frogs go SPLAT in the ceiling fan SPLAT in the ceiling fan SPLAT in the ceiling fan We all know frogs go SPLAT in the ceiling fan They don't go gloomph gloomph gloomph The tune to the little green frog song is one of those ones that sounds like a stock tune, but after further thought is very difficult to pin down exactly. As I am not into sending ASCII musical notation, I shall be forced to offer the following: Dee dum dee dee deedle dee dum daa daa dee dum dee dee deedle dee dum dee dum dee dee deedle dee dum daa daa daa dee dum dum dum dum dum Dum dum daa daa daa daa [clap] laa dee daa dee daa [clap] laa dee daa dee daa [clap] laa dee daa dee daa dee daa dum daa daa [clap] laa dee daa dee daa dee daa dum daa daa dum There are a couple of hand actions that go with it, but by and large you can just make them up. -- Thanks to Jason B. Standing Esq., MacScouter & ASL 1st Glen Osmond Scout Troop, Adelaide, South Australia, standing@ist.flinders.edu.au Oh Tom the Toad (Sung to the tune of Oh Christmas Tree. O Tannenbaum) Oh, Tom the Toad, Oh, Tom the Toad Why are you lying in the road? Oh, Tom the Toad, Oh, Tom the Toad Why are you lying in the road? Didn't you see, that light turn red? Now there are tracks, across your head. Oh, Tom the Toad, Oh, Tom the Toad Why are you lying in the road? Oh, Kitty Cat, Oh, Kitty Cat Why does your tongue hang out like that? Oh, Kitty Cat, Oh, Kitty Cat Why does your tongue hang out like that? Why were you running from the mutts? Now that truck, spread out your guts... Oh, Kitty Cat, Oh, Kitty Cat Why does your tongue hang out like that? Oh Fred the fish, Oh Fred the fish, Why are you lying on the dish? Oh Fred the fish, Oh Fred the fish, Why are you lying on the dish? You did not see the hook ahead, And now your head is stuffed with bread. Oh Fred the fish, Oh Fred the fish, Why are you lying on the dish? Oh Bill the bug, oh Bill the bug, What are you doing on the rug. Oh Bill the bug, oh Bill the bug, What are you doing on the rug. You did not see the foot ahead, and now your just a spot of red, Oh Bill the bug, oh Bill the bug, What are you doing on the rug. Oh Rog the dog, Oh Rog the dog, Why did you jump on that green log? Oh Rog the dog, Oh Rog the dog, Why did you jump on that green log? You used to like to play and track. But now you are a ‰gatorĄs snack. Oh Rog the dog, Oh Rog the dog, Why did you jump on that green log? Oh Tom the Toad, Oh Tom the Toad Why did you jump into the road? Oh Tom the Toad, Oh Tom the Toad Why did you jump into the road? You were so big and green and fat But now you're small and red and flat. Oh Tom the Toad, Oh Tom the Toad Why did you jump into the road? Oh AL the Gater, Oh Al the gater You should have waited until later. Oh Al the Gater, Oh Al the Gater You should have waited until later. You sat upon the yellow line, and now you're just a streak of slime Oh AL the Gater, Oh Al the gater You should have waited until later. Oh Sue the Skunk, Oh Sue the Skunk Why do you make my tires go thunk? Oh Sue the Skunk, Oh Sue the Skunk Why do you make my tires go thunk? You did not look from East to West Now on the road there's such a mess. Oh Sue the Skunk, Oh Sue the Skunk Why do you make my tires go thunk? Oh Sam the Snake, Oh Sam the Snake Why do you lie out there and bake? Oh Sam the Snake, Oh Sam the Snake Why do you lie out there and bake? You did not see that truck go by Now you look like a butterfly. Oh Sam the Snake, Oh Sam the Snake Why do you lie out there and bake? Oh Possum Pete, Oh Possum Pete There's nothing left but hair and feet Oh Possum Pete, Oh Possum Pete There's nothing left but hair and feet You thought you'd beat that bus across Now you look like a pile of moss. Oh Possum Pete, Oh Possum Pete There's nothing left but hair and feet Arm'dillo Tex, Arm'dillo Tex, Why are you looking so perplexed? Arm'dillo Tex, Arm'dillo Tex, Why are you looking so perplexed? Across the yellow line you strayed, The truck hit you - like a grenade! Arm'dillo Tex, Arm'dillo Tex, Why are you looking so perplexed? Oh Froggie Fred, Oh Froggie Fred, Why do you lie there stone-cold dead? Oh Froggie Fred, Oh Froggie Fred, Why do you lie there stone-cold dead? You didn't look as you jumped out, A ten-ton truck ran up your snout! Oh Froggie Fred, Oh Froggie Fred, Why do you lie there stone-cold dead? Oh Swallow Sam, Oh Swallow Sam, What turned your body into jam? Oh Swallow Sam, Oh Swallow Sam, What turned your body into jam? In the air you'd quickly speed, An eighteen-wheeler made you bleed. Oh Swallow Sam, Oh Swallow Sam, What turned your body into jam? Oh Doggie Spot, Oh Doggie Spot, Upon the road you're such a blot. Oh Doggie Spot, Oh Doggie Spot, Upon the road you're such a blot. Out in the lane you boldly went, Now your bod's not worth a cent! Oh Doggie Spot, Oh Doggie Spot, Upon the road you're such a blot. Oh Bunny Ben, Oh Bunny Ben, Why is your body flat and thin? Oh Bunny Ben, Oh Bunny Ben, Why is your body flat and thin? Out on the road you quickly jumped, You didn't count on getting bumped. Oh Bunny Ben, Oh Bunny Ben, Why is your body flat and thin? Oh Billy Bat, Oh Billy Bat, Why are you lying still like that? Oh Billy Bat, Oh Billy Bat, Why are you lying still like that? Along the road you swooped and flapped, But a trucker's windshield got you zapped! Oh Billy Bat, Oh Billy Bat, Why are you lying still like that? Oh Turtle Ted, Oh turtle Ted, Your shell's all broken - so's your head. Oh Turtle Ted, Oh turtle Ted, Your shell's all broken - so's your head. In the road you thought you'd travel, Now you're ground into the gravel. Oh Turtle Ted, Oh turtle Ted, Your shell's all broken - so's your head. Oh, Chicken Cluck you never slowed As you went running cross the road. Oh, Chicken Cluck you never slowed As you went running cross the road. Despite the other's evidence, Please tell us why you had no sense Oh, Chicken Cluck you never slowed As you went running cross the road. I ran across! I ran across! In memory of those we lost! I ran across! I ran across! In memory of those we lost! I had to prove to Tom & Sue, & Sam & Pete, I could get through! I ran across! I ran across! In memory of those we lost! Announcements, announcements, announcements! A horrible way to die, A horrible way to die, A horrible way to to be talked to death, A horrible way to die. We sold our cow, We sold our cow, We have no need for your bull now. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooo... Pile it up in the corner, Pile it up in the corner, Pile it up in the corner, It makes the flowers grow! It makes the flowers grow, It makes the flowers grow, So pile it up in the corner, Pile it up in the corner, Pile it up in the cornerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr It makes the flowers grow! Have you ever seen a windbag, a windbag, a windbag? Have you ever seen a windbag, well here's one right now. Blows this way and that way, And that way and this way, Have you ever seen a windbag, well here's one right now. Keep announcement short and sweet, Short and sweet, Short and sweet. Keep announcement short and sweet, They're so ........................... BORING!!!! (name) has another one, another one, another one, (name) has another one, he has them all the time. I found my cow, I found my cow, I have some need for your bull now. What a horrible way to die. What a horrible way to die. What a horrible way to be bored to death. What a horrible way to die! Related Verses The Grand Old Duke of York, He had ten thousand men, He marched them up the hill (and they got shot!) Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the King's horses and all the King's men Had omelets. -- Thanks to Stan Hodge, STANH@MAIL.TDOC.TEXAS.GOV>, Bruce E. Cobern, bec@PIPELINE.COM, Charlotte S. Jerscheid, cjersche@CAPACCESS.ORG>, Ron Fox, RonWFox@aol.com The Cremation of Sam McGee by Robert W. Service There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold. The arctic trails have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold. The northern lights have seen queer sights but the queerest they ever did see, was that night on the marge of Lake LeBarge when I cremated Sam McGee. Now Sam McGee was from Tenessee where the cotton blooms and blows. Why he left his home in the south to roam 'round the poles, God only knows. He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell, though he'd often say in his homely way that he'd sooner live in Hell. On a Christmas day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail. Talk of your cold, through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail. If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze 'til sometimes we couldn't see. It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee. And that very night while we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow, and the dogs were fed, and the stars o'er head were dancing heel and toe, he turns to me, and "Cap" says he "I'll cash in this trip, I guess. And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request." Well, he looked so low that I couldn't say no, then he says with a sort of a moan, "It's the cursed cold, it's got right hold 'til I'm chilled clean through to the bone. Yet tain't being dead, it's my awful dread of an icy grave that pains. So I want you to swear that foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains." Well, a friend's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail. We started on at the streak of dawn, but, God, he looked ghastly pale! He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tenessee, and before nightfall, a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee. There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried on, horror stricken. With a corpse half hid, that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise I'd given. It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say, "You may tax your brawn and your brains, but you promised true, and it's up to you to cremate these last remains." And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow. But on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low. The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in. And I'd often sing to the hateful thing and it harkened with a grin! Then I came to the marge of Lake LeBarge and a derelict there lay. It was choked with ice, but I say in a thrice it was named the "Alice May". I looked at it, and I thought a bit, then I turned to my frozen chum, and "This" said I with a sudden cry "is my crematorium!" Some planks I tore from the cabin floor and lit the boiler fire. Some coal I found that was lying around and heaped the fuel higher. The furnace roared and the flames they soared, such a blaze you seldom see. Then I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal and I stuffed in Sam McGee. Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so. And the heavens scowled and the huskies howled and the wind began to blow. It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, I don't know why. And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky. I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear. But the stars were out and they danced about 'ere again I ventured near. I was sick with dread, but I bravely said "I'll just take a peek inside. He's probably cooked, it's time I looked." Then the door I opened wide. And there sat Sam, looking cold and calm in the heart of the furnace roar. He wore a smile you could see a mile, and he said "Please shut that door! It's warm in here, but I greatly fear you'll let in the cold and storm. Since I left Plumtree, down in Tenessee, it's the first time I've been warm." There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold. The arctic trails have their secret tales that would make your blood run cold. The northern lights have seen strange sights, but the queerest they ever did see was that night on the marge of Lake LeBarge when I cremated Sam McGee. The Songs for Scouts collection is brought to you by R. Gary Hendra --The MacScouter -- CA Pack 92, MC Troop 92, Milpitas, California