Traditional Folk Song
G D
When I was young I used to wait
G
On the master and hand him his plate,
G7 C
And Pass the bottle when he got dry,
D G
And brush away the blue tail fly.
G D
Jimmy crack corn and I don't care,
G
Jimmy crack corn and I don't care,
G7 C
Jimmy crack corn and I don't care,
D G
My master's gone away.
And when he ride in the afternoon,
I follow with a hickory broom;
The pony being very shy,
When bitten by the blue tail fly.
One day he rode around the farm,
The flies so numerous they did swarm;
One chanced to bite him on the thigh.
The devil take that blue tail fly.
The pony run, he jump and pitch,
And tumble mater in the ditch;
He died, and the jury wondered why;
The verdict was the blue tail fly.
They buried him 'neath the sycamore tree -
His epitaph there for to see:
"Beneath this stone I'm forced to lie,
The victim of a blue-tailed Fly."
ABOUT THE SONG
Style: Alternative Folk
Recording: original take / live digital 1-track stereo
Instrumentation: Vocals, Guitar
From the album Climax