3rd Grade
The Erie Canal: Traditional New York Work Song
Verse 1 :
I’ve got a mule her name is Sal, Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal,
She’s a good hard worker and a real good pal! Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal
We’ve hauled some barges in our day, filled with lumber coal and hay,
From Buffalo we’re starting a trip, and it’s a slow but a very good ship
Oh! Low bridge, everybody down, Low bridge we’re a coming to a town
And you’ll always know your neighbor, you’ll always know your pall,
If you’ve ever navigated on the Erie Canal!
Verse 2:
Git up, old Sal, lets pass the lock, Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal
In Schenectady today at six o’clock, Fifteen miles on the Erie Canal
It’s all the time the same old haul, Glad to reach my port of call,
A hundred friends will greet me “hello” From Albany to Buffalo
Oh! Low bridge, everybody down, Low bridge we’re a coming to a town
And you’ll always know your neighbor, you’ll always know your pall,
If you’ve ever navigated on the Erie Canal!
This Land is Your Land words and music by Woody Guthrie
This land is your land, this land is my land,
from California, to the New York Islands
From the redwood forest, to the Gulf Stream waters.
This land was made for you and me.
As I was walking, that ribbon of highway
I saw above me, that endless skyway
I saw below me, that golden valley,
This land was made for you and me.
I’ve roamed and rambled,
and I followed my footsteps,
To the sparkling sand of
Her diamond deserts
And all around me, a voice was sounding,
This land was made for you and me.
When the sun comes shining,
And I was strolling,
And the wheat fields waving,
And the dust clouds rolling
As the fog was lifting,
A voice was chanting
This land was made for you and me
This land is your land, this land is my land,
from California, to the New York Islands
From the redwood forest, to the Gulf Stream waters.
This land was made for you and me.
On top of Spaghetti: Words and music by Tom Glazer
On top of spaghetti, All covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed.
It rolled off the table, and onto the floor, and then my poor meatball, rolled out of the door.
It rolled in the garden, and under a bush, and then my poor meatball, was nothing but mush.
The mush was as tasty, as tasty could be, and early next summer, it grew into a tree
The tree was all overed, with beautiful moss, it grew lovely meatballs, and tomato sauce,
So if you eat Spaghetti, all covered with cheese, hold onto your meatballs, and don’t ever sneeze!