Campfire Song Book (PDF) - Halifax Ukulele Gang (HUG)

SCOUTING AND CAMPFIRE SONGS PAGE 54 OF 124
SCOUTING AND CAMPFIRE SONGS PAGE 71 OF 124
LITTLE COTTAGE IN THE WOODS
DHG
D A7
Little cottage in the woods
D
Little man by the window stood,
G
Saw a rabbit hopping by
A7 D
Knocking at his door.
D A7
Help me! Help me! Help! he said
D
'Ere the hunter shoots me dead.
G
Come little rabbit, come with me
A7 D
Safely to abide.
Actions:
Little cottage in the wood
(trace a cabin outline with your index fingers)
Little man by the window stood
(trace a window outline)
Saw a rabbit hopping by
(two fingers of one hand like rabbit ears, hopping)
Knocking at his door
(knock with fist)
Help me! Help me! Help! he said
(throw arms up for each "help me")
'Ere the hunter shoots me dead
(make a finger gun, point, and shoot)
Come little rabbit, come with me,
(welcome gesture with hands)
Safely to abide.
(hug yourself)
(or “Rabbit Stew for tea”)
Keep dropping lines until you're acting the entire song with no
words and just hand motions. Finish up by singing the entire
song one more time with all the hand motions.
ON TOP OF SPAGHETTI
Tune: On Top of Old Smokey
DGH
D G D
On top of spaghetti, all covered in cheese
A7 D
I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed.
It rolled off the table, and onto the floor
And then my poor meatball, it rolled out the door.
It rolled down the gutter, and under a bush
And now my poor meatball, is nothing but mush.
The rains came and soaked it, as wet as can be
And early next summer it grew to a tree.
The tree was all covered with beautiful moss
It grew lovely meatballs all covered in sauce.
If you eat spaghetti, all covered in cheese
Hang on to your meatball and don't ever sneeze!
ON TOP OF OLD SMOKEY
On top of old Smokey, all covered with snow,
I lost my true lover from courting too slow.
Now, courting is pleasure and parting is grief,
And a false-hearted lover is worse than a thief.
For a thief will just rob you and take what you have,
But a false-hearted lover will lead you to the grave.
And the grave will decay you and turn you to dust;
Not one boy in a hundred a poor girl can trust.
They'll hug you and kiss you and tell you more lies,
Than cross ties on a railroad or stars in the skies.
So, come all you young maidens and listen to me,
Never place your affection on a green willow tree.
For the leaves they will whither, and the roots they will die,
You'll all be forsaken and never know why.