that this here's a case of `CANNED MAN'."

Well, though I'm not strong on the Dago in song,
that sure got me goin' for fair.
There was Crusoe an' Scotty, an' Ma'am Shoeman Hank,
an' Melber an' Bonchy was there.
'Twas silver an' gold, an' sweetness untold
to hear all them big guinneys sing;
An' thick all around an' inhalin' the sound, them Indians formed in a ring.

So solemn they sat, an' they smoked an' they spat,
but their eyes sort o' glistened an' shone;
Yet niver a word of approvin' occurred till that guy Harry Lauder came on.
Then hunter of moose, an' squaw an' papoose
jest laughed till their stummicks was sore;
Six times Eddie set back that record an' yet
they hollered an' hollered for more.

I'll never forget that frame-up, you bet; them caverns of sunset agleam;
Them still peaks aglow, them shadders below,
an' the lake like a petrified dream;
The teepees that stood by the edge of the wood;
the evenin' star blinkin' alone;
The peace an' the rest, an' final an' best, the music of Ed's grammyfone.

Then sudden an' clear there rang on my ear a song mighty simple an' old;
Heart-hungry an' high it thrilled to the sky,
all about "silver threads in the gold".
'Twas tender to tears, an' it brung back the years,
the mem'ries that hallow an' yearn;