TUMBLING MUSTARD

Malcolm Cowley

 

All:             Born in a fence-corner,

                   Raised in a coulee,

                   Wedded in Nebraska,

                   Parted on the Sound.

Solo 1:       They call me Tumbling Mustard.

Solo 2:       “Hey, Tumbling Mustard,

                   what’s your business,

                   Listen buddy,

                   Where are you bound?”

Solo 1:       Monday in Omaha,

                   Tuesday in Dakota,

                   One day in Memphis,

                   Three in Allentown.

All:             Mud roads and stony roads, concrete

                             and macadam,

Solo 1:       She would never leave me if I would settle down.

All:             Columbine and larkspur,

                   Peony and dahlia,

                   Cornflower, mayflower,

                   Each has its place.

Solo 1:       I am the tumble-weed that rolls

                   across the prairies,

All:             Winds at the back of it,

                   Mountains in its face.

All:             Tumble-weed, tumble-weed

                   Riding his velocipede.

Solo 1:       East side, west side,

                   All around the moon.

All:             Denver, San Francisco, Winnipeg,

                             and Dallas,

Solo 1:       Maybe if the gas holds out

                   We’ll get there soon.