The Corner

On Account of The Flies…

his poet’s sweatin’ again:

Life Gets Tedious, Don’t It?

(Doc Watson, 1970)

The sun comes up and the sun goes down

Hands on the clock keep goin’ around

I just get up and it’s time to lay down Life gets tedious don’t it.

My shoe’s untied but I don’t care

’Cos I wasn’t figurin’ on goin’ nowhere I’d jist have to wash, and comb my hair, and That’s just wasted effort

Water in the well’s gettin’ lower and lower Ain’t had a bath for six months more But I’ve heard it said and it’s true I’m sure, that Too much bathin’ will weaken yuh . . .


I open the door, the flies swarm in

Shut the door and I’m sweatin’ again

And in the process I crack my shin

Jist one durn thing after another

That old brown mule he must be sick

I jabbed him in the rump with a pin on a stick He humped his back, but he

wouldn’t kick Sump’n’ cockeyed somewhere . . .

There’s a mouse a chawin’ on the pantry door He’s bin’ there for six months or more When he gets through he’s sure gonna be sore, cos There ain’t a durn thing in there

Houn’ dog howlin’ so forlorn




Laziest dog that ever wuz born

He’s howlin’ cuz he’s sittin’ on a thorn Jus’ too tired to move over

The tin roof leaks an’ the chimney leans There’s a hole in the seat of my ol’ blue jeans An’ I’ve et the last of the pork an’ beans You cain’t depend on nuthin’

The cow’s gone dry and the hens won’t lay Fish weren’t bitin’ last Saturday

Troubles just keep pilin’ up, day by day, and Now I’m gittin’ dandruff

Griefs and miseries, pains and woes

Debts and taxes, and so it goes

I think I’m gettin’ a cold in by dose

Life gets tasteless, don’t it?

John Derbyshire — Mr. Derbyshire is a former contributing editor of National Review.
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