When The Circus Come To Town

We don’t have no immense parades like city people know,

With thirty thousand men in line, an’ all its pomp an’ show;

No bold Marines from off the fleets, no Bunker Hill displays,

‘Cuz Gungywamp warn’t never mixed up in historic days.

But we hev somethin’ ev’ry year that jest makes up fur all

The fun we lose in big parades or functions big an’ small;

A day that Gungywamp holds up to honor an’ renown,

An that’s the day,

                      In fine array,

                                      The circus comes to town.

We’re wide awake at break o’ day when that event comes round,

An’ skurcely any boy kin keep his feet upon the ground;

The breakfast hour goes awful slow, no one kin stop to eat

Becuz they wanter  be all dressed an’ out upon the street.

An’ after waitin’, seems an age, the band is heard afar,

An' ev’rybuddy fur an’ near drops things right where they are;

An' purty soon, with pomp an’ show, with ellerfunt an’ clown,

With horsemen bold,

                   With gilt an’ gold,

                                      The circus comes to town.

The boys fall in a march to where the cages circle round,

And watch the mammoth tents go up like mountains o’er the ground.

Sometimes we strike a job an’ help to water all the zoo,

The horses an’ the ellerfunt, the mules an’ kangaroo;

An’ if we labor hard enough, an’ keep right on the go,

Maybe the man will give us each a ticket to the show.

O, that is when our cups are full an’ blessings sprinkle down,

When we can see,

                   The same as free,

                                      The circus in the town.

Then in the afternoon we set down in the foremost row

Where we can’t fail to see the hull that happens in the show;

The bareback lady an’ the clowns who crack the funny jokes,

The trapeze men, an’ dancin’ dogs an’ other circus folks,

An’ we jest say right then an’ there when we grow up we will be

Big circus men an’ do the things the same as what we see.

One wants to be the tattooed man, the clown, an’ so they go,

But as for me

                    I’d rather be

                                      The man who owns the show.

Then in the side how, gee, what fun! The hairy man an’ all,

An’ then the chap who runs to ketch a red hot cannon ball!

The bearded lady, an’ the giant who eats boys big as me –

The big fat lady in the pen ain’t she a sight to see?

I wouldn’t wanter be the man who eats live frog an’ things,

Nor be the charmer of the snakes with them tight-fittin’ rings;

But I would like to be the man who call the others down,

The one who speaks

                   About the freaks

                                      An’ interests the town.

The feedin’ of the animals is pay enough fur me;

The roarin’ of the lions is great – jut suits me to a “tee” –

I’d like to be a trainer, bet I’d make ‘em toe the mark,

Although I guess I wouldn’t want to meet ‘em in the dark.

Then we go home an’ talk it o’er, an’ dream about it too,

An’ lay our plans for circuses the future is to view.

O, Gungywamp is dull, but then, one day she knows renown,

An’ that’s the day,

                       In fine array

                                      The circus comes to town.

April 21, ‘09