Camping/Songs

Camp Songs

 * HTML version of site

There's a Daisy On My Toe
There's a Daisy On My Toe There's a daisy on my toe, It's not alive it does not grow, It's just a tattoo of a flower So I look pretty in the shower, It's on the second toe of my left foot, It's got no stem, it's got no root, (spoken) 'Cause that wouldn't look good. There's a daisy on my toe, My right foot loves my left foot so.


 * http://dragon.sleepdeprived.ca/songbook/songs5/S5_130.htm
 * http://webcatt.net/Midi/daisy_toe.html (includes midi)

Original by Smother's brothers

Little Birdies
BIRDIE SONG Wa-y up in the sky (point to the sky) The little bir-dies fly (make wings moving arms up and down) Way down in their nest (make next with palms side by side) The lit-tle bir-dies rest (hands with palms together under ear like a pillow) With a wing on the left (wave left arm up and down) And a wing on the right (wave right arm up and down) We’ll let the little bir-dies (hands with palms together under ear like a pillow) sleep all through the night (same) Spoken - Shhh....they’re sleeping (said with index finger up to lips) SECOND VERSE The bright sun comes up (move arms in a circle above head) The dew falls a-way (flutter fingers down in front of face like rain) “Good morning, good morning,” (wave a greeting) The little birdies say (make wings moving up and down) With a wing.... (same as before)


 * http://ask.metafilter.com/19861/Help-ID-the-song-I-sing-my-daughter

The Little Bird Song (Sing this with a group of groggy campers!) Way up in the sky, the little birds fly, While down in the nest, the little birds rest. With a wing to the left, and a wing to the right, The little birds sleep all through the night. Shhhhh! YOU MIGHT WAKE UP THE BIRDS! The bright sun comes up, the dew falls away, "Good Morning, Good Morning!" the little birds say.


 * http://resources.kaboose.com/kidslinks/sports/camp/campfire_songs.html

Birdie Song (heads blown away) Way up in the sky, the big birdies fly, While down in the nest, the little birdies rest. With a wind on the left, and a wing on the right, The little birds sleep, all through the night SHH THEY’RE SLEEPING (yell) Then up comes the sun, the dew falls away Good morning, good morning, the little birdies say Then up comes the guns, the birds fly away The ones who remain get their heads blown away


 * http://www.buckhorn-timberline.org/Documents/Timberline%20Song%20Book%201.6.pdf
 * HTML version

Little Bar of Soap
I Wish I Were A Little Bar of Soap Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap Oh I'd slippy and I'd slidey over everybody's hidy Oh I wish I were a little bar of soap ...


 * http://dragon.sleepdeprived.ca/songbook/songs5/S5_28.htm
 * http://www.scoutsongs.com/lyrics/wishiwere.html
 * http://parentingteens.about.com/library/sp/gs/blsongs1.htm

Dead Dog Rover
My Dead Dog Rover Song Tune: I'm Looking Over a Four-Leaf Clover

I'm looking over my dead dog Rover, That I over-ran with the mower. One leg is missing the other is gone. The third one is scattered all over the lawn. No need explaining the one remaining It's splattered on the kitchen door. I'm looking over my dead dog Rover, that I over-ran with the mower.


 * http://www.boyscouttrail.com/content/song/song-494.asp
 * http://www.themadmusicarchive.com/song_details.aspx?SongID=307
 * http://www.grandfolkies.com/d.htm
 * http://www.scoutorama.com/song/song_display.cfm?song_id=400
 * http://www.djmorton.demon.co.uk/scouting/songs/rover.htm

Draft Dodger Rag
Draft Dodger Rag By Phil Ochs I'm just a typical American boy from a typical American town. I believe in God and Senator Dodd and in keeping old Castro down. And when it came my time to serve, I knew better dead than red. But when I got to my ol' draft board, buddy this is what I said: : "Sarge, I'm only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen, And I always carry a purse. I got eyes like a bat, and my feet are flat, and my asthma's getting worse. Oh, think of my career, my sweetheart dear, my poor old invalid aunt. Besides, I ain't no fool, I'm going to school, And I'm working in a defense plant." I got a dislocated disc, and a racked up back, I'm allergic to flowers and bugs, And when the bombshell hits I get epileptic fits And I'm addicted to a thousand drugs. I got the weakness woes, I can't touch my toes, I can hardly reach my knees. And if the enemy came close to me, I'd probably start to sneeze. I hate Chou En Lai and I hope he dies, but one thing you gotta see, That someone's gotta go over there, and that someone isn't me. So I wish you well, Sarge, give 'em hell, Yeah, kill me a thousand or so. And if you ever get a war without blood and gore, Well I'll be the first to go.


 * http://setiathome.ssl.berkeley.edu/~aparsons/guitar/guitar.py.cgi?song=Draft_Dodger_Rag
 * http://web.cecs.pdx.edu/~trent/ochs/lyrics/draft-dodger-rag.html
 * http://www.cowboylyrics.com/lyrics/ochs-phil/draft-dodger-rag-11443.html
 * http://www.folkarchive.de/draftd.html
 * http://www.ocap.ca/songs/draftdog.html

Quartermaster Store
Quartermaster Store There are (ants, ants, ants, trying on the pants.) In the store, in the store. There are (ants, ants, ants, trying on the pants.) In the Quartermaster, Quartermaster Store. (Chorus) My eyes are dim I cannot see. I have not got my specks with me I have [hey] not [ho] got my specks with me. Mice. . . running through the rice. Snakes. . . as big as garden rakes. Beans. . . as big as submarines. Gravy. . . enough to float the navy. Cakes. . . that give us tummy aches. Eggs. . . with scaly chicken legs. Butter. . . running in the gutter. Lard. . . they sell it by the yard. Bread. . . with great big lumps like lead. Cheese. . . that makes you want to sneeze. Soot. . . they grow it by the foot. Goats. . . eating all the oats Bees. . . with little knobby knees. Owls. . . shredding paper towels. Apes. . . eating all the grapes. Turtles. . . wearing rubber girdles. A Bear. . . with curlers in its hair. Foxes. . . stuffed in little boxes. Coke. . . enough to make you choke. Roaches. . . as big as the coaches. Flies. . . swarming 'round the pies. Fishes. . . washing all the dishes. Moths. . . eating through the cloths watches - big as sasquaches beavers - with little meat cleavers Scouts. . . eating brussel sprouts. Leaders. . . slapping at the skeeters.


 * HTML version

keywords
scout scouting boy scouts of america