On Top of Old Smokey

This is a song I recall from my childhood. We used to sing it when we were mad at our teachers. I'm not sure of the origin of this song but it is quite violent. I don't know if kids still sing this song today, but perhaps it would help them relieve some tension without resorting to bloodshed.

On Top of Old Smokey

On top of old Smokey
All covered in blood
I shot my poor teacher
With a .44 Stud

I went to her funeral
I went to her grave
Everyone threw flowers
But I threw a grenade

The police came and got me
They took me to jail
I pulled out my bazooka
And blew them to Hell


I do not endorse the type of behavior by anyone, especially school children, but it has always interested me how songs like this are known by kids across the nation. Or at least people from my generation.

On top of old Smokey

All covered with cheese

I lost my true lover

When somebody sneezed.

 

She rolled off the table

And onto the floor

And then my true lover

Rolled right out the door.

 

She rolled through the snowbank

And under a bush

And then my poor lover

Was turned into mush.

 

But the mush was so tasty

As tasty can be

And early last summer

She grew into a tree.

 

So when you're on old Smokey

All covered with cheese

Hang onto your lover

And don't ever sneeze.