My mother was a great one for singing as she went about her daily routines. She had a pleasant voice. She was also something of a performer so liked to embellish the songs with gestures and with rather unexpected emphases.
As a child I liked the singing - I especially liked the sound of her voice - and the tunes were often memorable in their own right. But the lyrics were often disturbing, an aspect I think my mother was well aware of and which provided fuel for her performances.
Looking again at some of these lyrics and I am hardly surprised they unsettled me. Although I didn't properly understand them back then their sinister tone came across well enough, perhaps given even greater potency by my youthful inability to make complete sense of them. For instance this line from Charlie's Darling:
"... dashing away with the smoothing iron, she stole my heart away." which my mother accompanied with furious dashing movements, sounded to me as if it was describing an act of considerable violence. Indeed I wondered if the dashing business was a way of physically accessing the human heart prior to its removal. I sometimes think of it still when watching surgical procedures in the TV series "House".
Some of the songs - such as "Long Long Trail" - are frankly melancholy. Others, like "Yes my Darling Daughter", are really very creepy and peculiar: the mother in this sorry tale acts like the madam of a brothel, or the wretched mother described by Humbert Humbert - long before he meets Lolita and her mother - who tried to sell the services of her spurious under-age daughter. Although my grip on the precise nature of these peculiarities was shaky, with lines such
"What if he'll persist, mama darling, doing things he hadn't oughta
Mama, what should be my answer? Yes, my darling daughter." or
"If his manner becomes a shade improper?
Tell him that your heart belongs to papa." it didn't take much knowledge or imagination to know that something odd was up. As for this, from "Early One Morning"
" ... Oh don't deceive me: Oh never leave me
How could you use a poor maiden so?"
I didn't (and still don't) like the sound of that "use" in the least, especially so closely linked with deception.
The more I look at them, the more it seems to me that they ARE pretty odd and it wasn't just a childish misconception. Anyway, here's a handful of lyrics: spend a few minutes and see what you think.
YES MY DARLING DAUGHTER
I've gotta be good or mama will scold me
Yes, yes, yes
I
asked her and this is what she told me
Yes, yes, yes
Mother,
may I go out dancing? Yes, my darling daughter!
Mother, may I try
romancing? Yes, my darling daughter!
What if there's a moon,
mama darling, and it's shining on the water,
Mother, must I keep
on dancing? Yes, my darling daughter!
If he wants to kiss,
mama darling,
When he feels it's time we ought to,
Mother
must I let him kiss me? Yes, my darling daughter!
What if he'll propose, mama darling,
When the night is
growing shorter?
Mother, what should be my answer? Yes, my
darling daughter!
Oh mama, oh mama, oh mama, oh mama
What
if he should insist on one embrace, mama,
How can I keep him in
his place
If his manner becomes a shade improper?
Tell him
that your heart belongs to papa
Mother, will it be exciting?
Yes, my darling daughter
Mother, do I look inviting? Yes, my
darling daughter
If he holds me tight, mama darling, and my knees
just turn to water
Mama must I keep on dancing? Yes, my darling
daughter
What if he'll persist, mama darling, doing things he
hadn't oughta
Mama, what should be my answer? Yes, my darling
daughter
EARLY ONE MORNING
Early
one morning, just as the sun was rising,
I
heard a maid sing in the valley below:
"Oh
don't deceive me: Oh, never leave me.
How
could you use a poor maiden so?
Oh,
gay is the garland, and fresh are the roses,
I've
cull'd from the garden to bind on thy brow.
Oh,
don't deceive me: Oh, never leave me.
How
could you use a poor maiden so?
Remember
the vows that you made to your Mary,
Remember
the bower where you vowed to be true.
Oh,
don't deceive me: Oh, never leave me.
How
could you use a poor maiden so?"
Thus
sang the poor maiden, her sorrows bewailing,
Thus
sang the poor maid in the valley below;
"Oh,
don't deceive me: Oh, never leave me.
How
could you use a poor maiden so?"
CHARLIE'S DARLING
'Twas
on a Monday morning
When
I beheld my darling
She
looked so neat and charming
In
every high degree
She
looked so neat and nimble, O
A-washing
of her linen, O
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
She
stole my heart away.
'Twas
on a Tuesday morning
When
I beheld my darling
She
looked so neat and charming
In
every high degree
She
looked so neat and nimble, O
A-hanging
out her linen, O
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
She
stole my heart away.
'Twas
on a Wednesday morning
When
I beheld my darling
She
looked so neat and charming
In
every high degree
She
looked so neat and nimble, O
A-starching
of her linen, O
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
She
stole my heart away.
'Twas
on a Thursday morning
When
I beheld my darling
She
looked so neat and charming
In
every high degree
She
looked so neat and nimble, O
A-ironing
of her linen, O
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
She
stole my heart away.
'Twas
on a Friday morning
When
I beheld my darling
She
looked so neat and charming
In
every high degree
She
looked so neat and nimble, O
A-folding
of her linen, O
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
She
stole my heart away.
'Twas
on a Saturday morning
When
I beheld my darling
She
looked so neat and charming
In
every high degree
She
looked so neat and nimble, O
A-airing
of her linen, O
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
She
stole my heart away.
'Twas
on a Sunday morning
When
I beheld my darling
She
looked so neat and charming
In
every high degree
She
looked so neat and nimble, O
A-wearing
of her linen, O
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
Dashing
away with the smoothing iron
She
stole my heart away.
THE HONEYSUCKLE AND THE BEE
You
are my honey, honeysuckle,
I
am the bee,
I’d
like to sip the honey sweet
From
those red lips, you see
I
love you dearly, dearly,
And
I want you to love me,
You
are my honey, honeysuckle,
I
am the bee.
LONG LONG TRAIL
Nights
are getting very lonely, days are very long,
And
I am growing weary only, listening for your song.
And
old remembrances are thronging through my memory,
Thronging
till it seems the world is full of dreams, just to bring you back to
me.
There's
a long, long trail a-winding into the land of my dreams,
Where
the nightingales are singing and the white moon gleams,
There's
a long, long night of waiting until my dreams all come true,
And
that's the day when I'll be going down that long, long trail with
you.
Sometimes
I think I hear you calling, calling sweet and low,
And
I seem to hear your footsteps falling everywhere I go,
But
though the road between us stretches many's the weary mile,
Somehow
I forget that you're not with me yet, when I think I see you smile.
There's
a long, long trail a-winding into the land of my dreams,
Where
the nightingales are singing and the white moon gleams,
There's
a long, long night of waiting until my dreams all come true,
And
that's the day when I'll be going down that long, long trail with
you.
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