Way up yonder above the sky
A bluebird lived in a jaybird's eye
Buckeye Jim, you can't go
Go weave and spin, you can't go
Buckeye Jim
Way up yonder above the moon
A blue jay nest in a silver spoon
Buckeye Jim, you can't go
Go weave and spin, you can't go
Buckeye Jim
Way down yonder in a wooden
trough
An old woman died of the whoopin' cough
Buckeye Jim, you can't go
Go weave and spin, you can't go
Buckeye Jim
Way down yonder in a hollow
log
A red bird danced with the green bullfrog
Buckeye Jim, you can't go
Go weave and spin, you can't go
Buckeye Jim
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jzyPLgKIyU&list=RD9jzyPLgKIyU&start_radio=1
Well, it’s the last day of August and a Sunday at that. Time seems to be standing still on it’s tippy-toes, gazing down the slide of the rest of the year. I don’t feel like doing anything but eating mustard potato salad and wondering if we’ll be doing anything special for Labor Day tomorrow. Buckeye Jim seems to be just the lazy, dreamy, melancholy sort of lullaby for the day.

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