Bob White - Bobby Darin

Just listen to the Bob White

He never could sing right

You should hip it to the latest sound

And the talk that’s goin' 'round

Well, I was talking to the parakeet

And he said, «Man, now about that beat»

(How about that beat?)

«Hey Bob White, ain’t you gonna swing tonight?»

Several people heard the Albatross

(Yes)

Whisper Robin is on the sauce

(I know for a fact he’s on the wagon)

Bob White, nothing but a neophyte

(John, what does that word mean?)

(Amateur)

Even the Pheasant found it unpleasant

Hearing you hit that flat note

Whereas the Sparrow froze to his marrow

When he heard that note

The opinion of the Tufted Grouse

Is you play to an empty house

(Could happen to anybody, sure could)

Get up, off that pair

Shape up, make it dare

Bob White, you gotta sing it out tonight

Take a letter to the Meadowlark

In reply to his rude remark

(Well, the mails must go through)

Bob White, invites you to a bash tonight

(My tux isn’t even pressed)

Take a wire to the Nightingale

Tell him Bob ain’t begun to wail

Bob White’s gonna put him down for spite

(Circulate the word)

Call up the Catbird

Tell that old fat bird

He’s gonna sing a storm up

Hip the Canary, it’ll be scary

After the warm up

Man, he’s even gonna gas the goose

He’ll be a' looser than Dr. Seuss

(Wait a minute John, do I detect a note

Of meaning that he’s gonna be 'right in tune?)

Man, I’m telling you, he’s gonna be 'on the moon

(I see)

Bob White

He’s gonna ball it up tonight

Oh, he’s in there

Guy whistles pretty

Yeah, like a bird, what?

Here’s a wire from the Albatross

(Sounds urgent)

It reads, 'Robin is still the boss'

(Well, thank you very much folks)

Bob White, he was in the groove tonight

(Ha ha ha)

I quote directly from the Whoopin' Crane

He says, «Man, it was like insane»

(He made it plain)

Bob White really fought a groovy fight

I thought I had him dead in the third round

Hey, old poppa Red Bird

Who is the head bird

Says you were in there swingin'

(He was tryin')

Even the Jackdaw

Flew out the back door

Buckin' and wingin'

You instigated such a swingin' gig

That all them quadrapeds wanna dig

(Here, here, you mean)

Here come, the moose and elk

And there goes Lawrence Welk

Bob White, Bob White, Bob White

You really sang it out tonight

(Aw, it’s for the birds)