Lavender Lane
Vintage favourites
I know a little cupboard
I know an old lady who swallowed a fly
I’m only a poor little sparrow
Inchworm
Keep your sunny side up
Let me call you sweetheart
Little boy fishin’
Little white duck
Mairzy doats and dozy doats
My grandfather’s clock
My old man said follow the van
Oh, Susanna
One potato, two potato
Que sera, sera
Run rabbit, run rabbit
Last updated: 4/20/2020
2:38 PM
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© Dany Rosevear 2008 All rights reserved
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I know an old lady who swallowed a fly O Who doesn’t know the old lady! – usually through the singing of Burl
Ives. The words and music are by Rose Bonne and Alan Mills |
I know and old lady who swallowed a fly. I don’t know why she swallowed a fly. Perhaps she’ll die. I know and old lady who swallowed a spider, That wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside
her. She swallowed the spider to catch the fly, I don’t know why she swallowed a fly. Perhaps she’ll die. I know and old lady who swallowed a bird, How absurd to swallow a bird! She swallowed the bird to catch the spider, That wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside
her. She swallowed the spider to catch the fly, I don’t know why she swallowed a fly. Perhaps she’ll die. I know and old lady who swallowed a cat, Just fancy that! She swallowed a cat. She swallowed the cat to catch the bird... I know and old lady who swallowed a dog, What a hog to swallow a dog! She swallowed the dog to catch the cat... I know and old lady who swallowed a goat, She opened her throat and swallowed a goat. She swallowed the goat to catch the dog, I know and old lady who swallowed a cow, I don’t know how but she swallowed a cow. She swallowed the cow to catch the goat, I know and old lady who swallowed a horse She’s dead, of course!
|
I know a little cupboard O A poem by Walter de la Mare and put to a charming Italian tune by
Mabel F. Wilson. I have printed the poem below as it was written though you will notice
I have slightly adapted the order and words when you listen to the musical
version. |
I know a little cupboard, With a teeny tiny key, And there's a jar of
lollipops For me, me, me. It has a little shelf,
my dear, As dark as dark can
be, And there's a dish of
Banbury Cakes For me, me, me. I have a small fat
grandmamma, With a very slippery
knee, And she's the Keeper
of the Cupboard With the key, key,
key. And if I'm very good,
my dear, As good as good can
be, There's Banbury Cakes,
and lollipops For me, me, me. |
I’m only a poor little sparrow 🔊 A nostalgia
song to have fun with. From my early teaching days. By Michael Coleman and
Kevin Parrott who had several othe popular hits at the time. It was in
the charts in 1979 for eleven weeks with a group of school children ‘The
Ramblers’ giving many notable performances. |
I'm only a poor little
sparrow (Aaah!) No colourful feathers have
I (What a shame) I can't even sing (Aaah!) When I'm nesting in Spring
(Aaah!) And the turnips don't grow
very high (It's a shame) Most sparrows I know are
so cheeky, (That's right) In fact they're incredibly
brave, (So brave) But for me that's not true
(Aaah!) All I ever do (Aaah!) Is worry myself to the
grave. (It's a shame) She's only a poor little
sparrow, No colourful feathers has
she, She can't even sing When she's nesting in
Spring And the turnips don't grow
very high. Whenever I try to be
helpful, (Not) I seem to do something
that's wrong; (That's right) Only one day last week, (Yes) I chopped someone’s beak, (Yes) And now it's as broad as
it's long. (Oh, poor thing) I once had a boyfriend
called Bertie, (Woooh) He said I was pretty as
three, (Haaah) He built me a nest, (Yes) Gave me all of his best, (Yes) Then jumped up and fell
off a tree. (Haha) (She's only a poor little
sparrow,) That's right (No colourful feathers has
she,) All brown (She can't even sing,) Tweet-tweet (When she's nesting in
Spring,) (She's only a poor little
bird.) That's right |
Inchworm O A song written by Frank Loesser. The verse works well with the chorus
when sung in counterpoint. |
Inchworm, Inchworm, Measuring the marigolds, You and your arithmetic Will probably go far. Inchworm, Inchworm, Measuring the marigolds, Seems to me you'd stop and see How beautiful they are. Two and two are four, Four and four are eight, Eight and eight are sixteen, Sixteen and sixteen are thirty-two. Two and two are four, Four and four are eight, Eight and eight are sixteen, Sixteen and sixteen are thirty-two. Inchworm, Inchworm, Measuring the marigolds, Seems to me you'd stop and see How beautiful they are.
|
Keep your sunny side up 🔊 Plant seeds for
the future, maybe out in the garden (or in a pot!), having a clearout or
learning a new skill. Younger
children will need to know the culinary description ‘sunny side up’! A golden oldie
written by Ray Henderson, B.G. DeSylva and Lew Brown in 1929. This is an
simplified version by Dany Rosevear to address difficulties caused by the
present pandemic. Adapt it yet again to provide your own solutions to
problems. |
Keep your sunny side up, up, Hide the side that gets blue. Off from work with nowhere to go? Plant some seeds for the future, you know! Keep your funny side up, up, Let your laughter come through, do! Stand up on your legs, Be like two fried eggs, Keep your sunny side up! Keep your sunny side up, up, Hide the side that gets blue. Out of school? No need to be low, Excercise, Skype a friend that you know! Keep your funny side up, up, Let your laughter come through, do! Stand up on your feet, Give the world a treat, Keep your sunny side up! Keep your sunny side up, up, Drown a frown with a smile. If you think it's raining for you, Just remember, others are blue. Always look for the bright side, Start the day on the right side; You'll find life worthwhile, Learn to wear a smile, Keep your sunny side up! |
Let me call you
sweetheart 🔊
Words and music by Leo Friedman and Beth
Slater Whitson 1910. There are many wonderful recordings out there
by well known singers but I hope my version with a gentle guitar accompaniment is
suited to the nursery for dancing with a parent either in their arms or swaying
holding hands; alternatively it can be sung as a lullaby. |
I am dreaming, Dear, of you, day by day; Dreaming when the skies are blue, when they’re grey; When the silv’ry moonlight gleams, still I wander on in dreams, In a land of love, it seems, just with you. Let me call you ‘Sweetheart’ I’m in love with you; Let me hear you whisper that you love me too. Keep the lovelight glowing in your eyes so true. Let me call you ‘Sweetheart’ I’m in love with you. Longing for you all the while, more and more; Longing for the sunny smile, I adore. Birds are singing far and near, roses blooming ev'rywhere, You, alone, my heart can cheer you, just you. |
Little boy fishin’ O Words and
music by Australian born songwriter William (Bill) Lovelock in 1952. He wrote
this for Shirley Abicair from Adelaide who emigrated to London, England in
1953 and became well known singing folk songs on BBC TV. |
Little boy fishin’ off a wooden pier, “Come fish, bite fish, swim along here.” Little boy wonder why the fish don't float, Little boy wanta buy a fishin’ boat. Little boy fishin’ off a wooden pier, “Come fish, bite fish, swim along here.” Little boy gotta buy a boat some way, Then he go fishin’ all the live long day. Chorus “Dog fish, cat fish, any this or that fish, Please swim by my line, Can't catch shell fish, but I want to sell fish, Gotta make some money for that boat of mine.” Little boy dreaming with a secret smile, Some day sail away, Cannibal Isle, Little boy wonder when his boat will come, Little boy slumber now the day is done. Chorus Little boy fishin’ off a wooden pier, “Come fish, bite fish, swim along here.” Little boy sleepy and he sail away, In his dreamboat down to Blanket Bay. |
Little white duck O Written around 1950 by W. Barrows and B. Zaritzky. It was made popular
by both Burl Ives and Danny Kaye. A good introduction to colour and also the realities of life! This is a wonderful song for younger children to listen to and they
will find it fun to join in with the pond life noises at the end of each
verse.. |
There’s a little white duck sitting in the
water, A little white duck doing what he oughter. He took a bite of a lily pad, Flapped his wings and he said, ‘I’m glad I’m a little white duck sitting in the
water, Quack! Quack! Quack! There’s a little green frog swimming in the
water, A little green frog doing what he oughter. He jumped right off of the lily pad, That the little duck bit and he said, ‘I’m
glad I’m a little green frog swimming in the
water, Glug! Glug! Glug! There’s a little black bug floating on the
water, A little black bug doing what he oughter. He tickled the frog on the lily pad, That the little duck bit and he said, ‘I’m
glad I’m a little black bug floating on the
water, Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! There’s a little red snake playing on the
water, A little red snake doing what he oughter. He frightened the duck and the frog so bad, He ate the bug and he said, ‘I’m glad I’m a little red snake playing on the
water, Hiss! Hiss! Hiss! Now there’s nobody left sitting in the
water, Nobody left doing what he oughter. There’s nothing left but the lily pad, The duck and the frog ran away, it’s sad ‘Cause there’s nobody left sitting in the
water, Boo! Hoo! Hoo! |
Mairzy doats and dozy doats O This song was
often on the record player or the radio when I was a child in the 50s and
thought the nonsense words were wonderful without any understanding of their
jumbled nature. Written in
1943 by Milton Drake, Al Hoffman and Jerry Livingston;
the song was inspired by one of the composer’s
daughter coming home with this ditty: ‘Cowzy tweet and sowzy tweet
and liddle sharksy doisters’ ‘Cows eat wheat and sows eat wheat and little
sharks eat oysters’ |
Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy
divey, A kiddley divey too, wouldn’t you? Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy
divey, A kiddley divey too, wouldn’t you? If the words sound weird and funny to your ear, A little bit jumbled and jivey, Sing "Mares eat oats and does eat oats And little lambs eat ivy." Oh! Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy
divey, A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you-ou? A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you? |
My grandfather’s clock O Written by Henry Clay Work in 1876. You can find the words of the full
version at : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/My_Grandfather's_Clock Our 16 month old grandson has a passion for our grandfather clock and
demands over and over again that grandad make it chime ; as soon as he
steps foot in our house he runs through the hall to the clock. So this is for
him. |
My grandfather's clock was too large for the shelf, So it stood ninety years on the floor; It was taller by half than the old man himself, Though it weighed not a pennyweight more. It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born, And was always his treasure and pride; But it stopped short, never to go again, When the old man died. Chorus Ninety years without slumbering, tick, tock,
tick, tock, His life's seconds numbering, tick, tock,
tick, tock, But it stopped short, never to go again, When the old man died. My grandfather said that of those he could hire, Not a servant so faithful he found; For it wasted no time, and had but one desire, At the close of each week to be wound. And it kept in its place, not a frown upon its face, And its hands never hung by its side. But it stopped, short, never to go again, When the old man died.
|
My old man said follow the van 🔊 A song about
the hardships of working lives and also from my childhood; we sang it when we
moved house all our furnitue and the ginger cat in the back. A music hall
song written in 1919 by Fred W. Leigh and Charles Collins, it was made
popular by Marie Lloyd. Find out more at Wikipedia. |
We had to move away, 'cos the rent we couldn't
pay, The moving van came round just after dark; There was me and my old man shoving things inside
the van, Which we'd often done before, let me remark. We packed all that could be packed, in the van and
that's a fact; And we got inside all we could get inside, Then we packed all we could pack, on the tailboard
at the back, Till there wasn't any room for me to ride. My old man said “Follow the van, And don't dilly dally on the way!” Off went the van with me ‘ome packed in it, I followed on with me old cock linnet. But I dillied and dallied, dallied and I dillied, Lost me way and don't know where to roam. I stopped on the way to have the old
half-quartern, And I can't find my way home. My old man said ‘Follow the van, And don't dilly dally on the way.’ Off went the van with me ‘ome packed in it, I followed on with me old cock linnet. But I dillied and dallied, dallied and I dillied, Lost me way and don't know where to roam. You can't trust the specials like the old-time
coppers When you can't find your way, can't find your way, Can't find your way home. |
Oh, Susanna 🔊 We loved songs from the American tradition when we were young and this
one by Stephen Foster (1826–1864) and first published in 1848 was a particular favourite. |
Oh, I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee, I am goin’ to Lou’siana, my true love for to see. Oh Susanna! Don’t you cry for me! For I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee. It rained all night the day I left, the weather it was dry, The sun so hot I froze to death, Susanna don’t you cry. Oh Susanna! Don’t you cry for me! For I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee. Now I had a dream the other night, when everything was still; I thought I saw Susanna dear, a-comin’ down the hill. A buckwheat cake was in her mouth, a tear was in her eye; Says I, I’m coming from the south, Susanna don’t you cry. Oh Susanna! Don’t you cry for me! For I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee, Oh Susanna! Don’t you cry for me! For I come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee. |
One potato, two potato O Younger children will enjoy listening to the verses and joining in with the chorus. Mime simple actions during each verse. For the chorus curl hands into fists and place one on top of the other. Remove the bottom fist and place
it above the other in time to the music. Keep repeating this action as each
time the fists get higher. Children find this activity great fun! |
In my little garden, now promise you won’t
laugh, I haven’t any flowers and I haven’t any
grass, But now I’m going to dig and plant And soon I’ll have a show; With a bit of sun and a bit of rain There’ll be a lovely row of: Chorus One potato, two potato, three potato, four, Five potato, six potato, seven potato more. One potato, two potato, three potato, four, Five potato, six potato, seven potato more. I’m going to grow so many things, I’ll
surely never starve, Cabbages and cauliflowers, I won’t do things by halves, I’ll plant a row of runner beans, They’ll grow so very high, With a bit of sun and a bit of rain, They’ll reach up to the sky. Chorus So if you’re ever down my way, do drop in
for tea. We’ll have lettuces and radishes, they’ll
all be grown by me, Tomatoes too, and cucumbers, Oh what a lovely spread! And if you do not like that, You can always have instead: Chorus
|
Que sera, sera 🔊 Loved singing this Doris Day song in
the 1950s walking through pineapple plantations in Kuala Lumpur on the way
home from school. |
When I was just a little girl, I asked my mother, "What will I be? Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?” Here's what she said to me: Que sera, sera, Whatever will be, will be, The future's not ours, to see, Que sera, sera, What will be, will be. When I was just a child in school, I asked my teacher, "What should I try? Should I paint pictures? Should I sing songs?" This was her wise reply: Chorus When I grew up and fell in love, I asked my sweetheart, "What lies ahead? Will we have rainbows, day after day?" Here's what my sweetheart said: Chorus Now I have children of my own, They ask their mother, “What will I be? Will I be handsome? Will I be rich! I tell them tenderly: Chorus |
Run
rabbit, run rabbit O Written by Noel Gay and Ralph Butler this song was very popular in
World War 2. Flanagan and Alan’s version poked fun at the Germans and was a
great favourite of Churchill. Find out more at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Run_Rabbit_Run It was certainly still very popular when I was a child, we listened to
it on the radio and sang it in the street and the school playground. |
On the farm, ev'ry Friday, On the farm, it's rabbit pie day, So ev'ry Friday, that ever comes along, I get up early and sing this little song... Chorus Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run! Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run! Bang, bang, bang, bang! Goes the farmer's gun. So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run! Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run! Don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun. He'll get by without his rabbit pie, So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run! On the farm, no poor rabbit, Comes to harm because I grab it. They jump and frolic whenever I go by, They know I help them to dodge the rabbit pie! Chorus |
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