Haywire Mac wrote hobo songs like "The Big Rock Candy Mountain" and "Hallelujah, I'm a Bum". He was a roustabout and a wandering musician 100 years ago, who settled down to make radio in San Francisco- a daily children's program- and became popular among everyone else. "Mac and His Haywire Orkestry". (His birthday is October 8, which happens to be this month. Thank you, Radio God, for bringing him up in The Mix.)
Ain't We Crazy is our birthday choice because of how it speaks to our commitment to bring you only the finest Dada, wherever it can be found. Sing along if you want.
Now, I know a little ditty, it's as crazy as can be.
The guy who wrote it said he wanted it, and handed it to me.
I found I couldn't use it because it sounded blue,
And that's the very reason why I'm handing it to you.
It's a song the alligators sing while coming through the rye,
As they serenade the elephants up in the trees so high.
The iceman hums this ditty as he shovels in the coal,
And the monkeys join the chorus up around the nothern pole.
Ain't we crazy, ain't we crazy,
This is the way we pass the time away.
Ain't we crazy, ain't we crazy,
We're going to sing this song all night today.
It was midnight on the ocean, not a streetcar was in sight,
And the sun was shining brightly, for it rained all day that night.
'Twas a summer night in winter, and the rain was snowing fast,
And a barefoot boy with shoes on stood a-sitting in the grass.
It was evening, and the rising sun was setting in the west.
The little fishes in the trees were huddled in their nest.
The rain was pouring down and the moon was shining bright,
And everything that you could see was hidden out of sight.
While the organ pealed potatoes, lard was rendered by the choir.
The sexton rung the dishrag, someone set the church on fire.
"Holy smoke!", the preacher shouted. In the rain he lost his hair.
Now his head resembles heaven, for there is no parting there.
The cows were making cowslips and the bells were wringing wet,
And the bumblebees were making bums and smoking cigarettes.
And a man slept in a stable and came out a little hoarse,
So he hopped upon his golf sticks and drove all around the course.
Ain't we crazy, ain't we crazy,
This is the way we pass the time away.
Ain't we crazy, ain't we crazy,
We're goin' to sing this song all night today.
It was midnight on the ocean, not a horsecar was in sight
As I stepped into the drugstore to get myself a light.
The man behind the counter was a woman old and gray
Who used to peddle shoestrings on the road to Mandalay.
"Good evening, sir," the woman said, and her eyes were bright with tears
As she put her head beneath her feet and stood that way for years.
Her children, six, were orphans, except one tiny tot
Who lived in a house across the street above a vacant lot.
Ain't we crazy, ain't we crazy,
But this is the way we pass the time away.
Ain't we crazy, ain't we crazy,
We're going to sing this song all night today.
