From: eugene@amelia.nas.nasa.gov (Eugene N. Miya)
Newsgroups: rec.backcountry
Subject: [l/m 4/15/92] Song			Distilled Wisdom (23/28) XYZ
Date: 23 Jul 92 11:20:11 GMT
Reply-To: eugene@amelia.nas.nasa.gov (Eugene N. Miya)
Followup-To: poster
Organization: NAS Program, NASA Ames Research Center, Moffett Field, CA

Panel 23

...
They took all the trees and put them in a tree museum
Then they charged all the people a dollar and a half just to see them.

Don't it always seem to go
That you don't know what you got till its gone.
They paved paradise and put up a parking lot.

--Joni Mitchell


Schnell (To the tune of the Marine Corps hymn):

From the ants in our petunia bed
To the crab grass in our lawn.
We will fight them off with chemicals
Till the bugs and weeds are gone.
We will use quarts and quarts of poison sprays
And we won't stop till we're thru.
The bugs and weeds are dying now,
But the plants and trees are, too.

--MAD


Nature Trail to Hell (In 3-D)

Coming this Christmas to a theater near you.
The most horrifying film to hit the screen!
There's a homicidal maniac who finds a Cub scout troop!
And he hacks up two or three in every scene.
Please don't reveal the secret ending to your friends.
Don't spoil the the big surprise.  You won't believe your eyes
When you see Nature Trail to Hell
Nature Trail to Hell, Nature Trail to Hell
In 3-D
Nature Trail to Hell, Nature Trail to Hell
Nature Trail to Hell
In 3-D

See severed heads that almost fall right in your lap.
See that bloody hatchet coming right at you.
No, you'll never see hideous effects like these again
Till we bring you Nature Trail to Hell, Part II
So bring the kids along, it's good clean family fun.
What have you got to lose? If you like the Six O'clock News,
Then you'll like Nature Trail to Hell
Nature Trail to Hell, Nature Trail to Hell
In 3-D
Nature Trail to Hell, Nature Trail to Hell
Nature Trail to Hell
In 3-D

--A.Y.


If everybody had an ocean, across the U.S.A.
Then everybody be surfing, like Californi-a.....
--BW


	Waltzing Matilda

Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong,
Under the shade of a coolibah tree,
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

   Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me,
   And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled,
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong,
Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee,
And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tuckerbag
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

   Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me,
   And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tuckerbag,
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Up rode the squatter mounted on his thoroughbred,
Down came the troopers - one, two, three,
Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tuckerbag?
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

   Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me,
   Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tuckerbag?
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Up jumped the swagman, and sprang into the billabong,
You'll never catch me alive said he,
And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong
You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

   Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me,
   And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong,
   You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.

Traditional Australian - almost became the official national anthem a few 
years ago.  Pity it didn't!  The chosen song is full of pomp and ceremony, 
fancy words and downright rubbish.

I can explain some of the Australianisms if you wish.
David Morrison, Manager, Networks and Comms, Uni of Newcastle, Australia


A river, a mountain to be crossed.
The sun shines in mountains some times lost....
--JA?


We come on the sloop John B.
My grandfather and me.
Around Nassau town we did roam.
Drinkin' all nite,
got into a fight
I feel so broke up
I want to go home.

So hoist up the John B.'s sails
See how the mainsail sets
Topple the Captain a shore
I want to go home.
Let me go home, I want'a go home.
This is the worst trip I've ever been on.
--trad.


On top of spagettehi, all covered with cheese
I lost my poor meatballs when somebody sneezed.
They rolled off of the table and onto the floor.
I last saw my poor meatballs rolling out of the door.
--trad.


How many roads must a man walk down
before you call him a man?
How many seas must the white dove sail
before she can sleep in the sand?
And how many times must the cannonballs fly
before they are forever banded?
The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind.
The answer is blowin' in the wind.
--B.D.


To the tune of "Streets of Laredo" (Cowboy's Lament?)
I see by his outfit that he is a hiker (biker, climber, paddler,...)
You see by my outfit that I'm a hiker too.
You see by our outfits that we are all hikers.
If you get an outfit you can be a hiker too!
--S.B.


As I went walking, that ribbon of highway
I saw above me that endless skyway
I saw below that golden valley.
This land was made for you and me.

This land is your land, this land is my land.
From California to the New York Island
From the Redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters.
This was made for your and me.

I saw a sign that said "No Trespassing."
And on the other side, that sign said nothing.
And all around me a voice was calling
"That sign was made for you and me."

This land is your land, this land is my land.
From California to the New York Island
From the Redwood forest to the Gulf Stream waters.
This was made for your and me.
--W.G.


This land is my land,
This land is my land
I've got a shotgun,
And you ain't got one.

You better get off,
'fore I blow your head off.
This land was made for only me!
--Scouting

This land is your land, it once was my land.
From California to Manhattan Island
You placed our nations onthe Reservations
This was stole by you from me.
--B.St.M.


Let's do the time warp again!
Let's do the time warp again!
It's just a jump to the left.
Then a step to the right.
...
--TRHPS

from The Call of the Wild

 Have you gazed on naked grandeur where there's nothing else to gaze on,
   Set pieces and drop-curtain scenes galore,
 Big mountains heaved to heaven, which the blinding sunsets blazon,
   Black canyons where the rapids rip and roar?
 Have you swept the visioned valley with the green stream streaking through it,
   Searched the Vastness for a something you have lost?
 Have you strung your soul to silence?  Then for God's sake go and do it;
   Hear the challenge, learn the lesson, pay the cost.


from The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail

 Said Deacon White:  "It is not strange that you should fail to know,
 Since ice-worms are peculiar to the Mountain of Blue Snow.
 Within the Polar rim it rears, a solitary peak,
 And in the smoke of early Spring (a spectacle unique)
 Like flame it leaps upon the sight and thrills you through and through,
 For though its cone is piercing white, its base is blazing blue.
 Yet all is clear as you draw near---for coyly peering out
 Are hosts and hosts of tiny worms, each indigo of snout.


from The Ballad of Blasphemous Bill

 Oh, the awful hush that seemed to crush me down on every hand,
 As I blundered blind with a trail to find through that blank and bitter land;
 Half dazed, half crazed in the winter wild, with its grim heartbreaking woes,
 And the ruthless strife for a grip on life that only the sourdough knows!
 North by the compass, North I pressed; river and peak and plain
 Passed like a dream I slept to lose and I waked to dream again.

 River and plain and mighty peak---and who could stand unawed?
 As their summits blazed, he could stand undazed at the foot of the throne of
  God.
 North, aye, North, through a land accurst, shunned by the scouring brutes,
 And all I heard was my own harsh word and the whine of the malamutes,
 Till I came at last to a cabin squat, built in the side of a hill,
 And I burst in the door, and there on the floor, frozen to death, lay Bill.

Freude, schoner Gotterfunken,
Touhter aus Elysium,
Wir betreten feuertrunken,
Himmlische, dein Heiligtum!
Deine Zauber binder wieder,
Was die Mode streng geteilt;
Alle Menschen werden Bruder.
Wo dein sanfter Flugel weilt.
Wem der grosse Wurf gelungen,
Eines Freundes Freund zu sein,
Wer ein holdes Weib errungen.
Mische seinen Jubel ein!
...

La Marseillaise
Allons, enfants de la Patrie!
Le jour de glorie est arrive!
Contre nous de la tyrannie,
L'etendard sanglant est leve!
L'etendard sanglant est leve!
Entendez-vous dans les campanges
Mugir ces feroces soldats?
Ils viennent jusque dans nos bras;
Egorger nos fils, nos compagnes
Aux armes, citoyens!
Formez cos bataillons!
Marchons! Marchons! Qu'un sang impur
Abreuve nos sillions!

  "And I believe
   These are the days of lasers in the jungle
   Lasers in the jungle somewhere
   Staccato signals of constant information
   A loose affiliation of millionaires 
   And billionaires and baby 
   These are the days of miracle and wonder
   This is the long distance call
   The way the camera follows us in slo-mo
   The way we look to us all
   The way we look to a distant constellation
   That's dying in a corner of the sky
   These are the days of miracle and wonder
   And don't cry baby, don't cry
   Don't cry"
	--Paul Simon

You left out an all time favorite, a song of pure rejoicing in
nature. I'm not certain of the composer, but it was written for
a travel show of the same name (Critic's note: for best sound, 
sing at over 10,000 ft...):

    The Happy Wanderer
Tempo: Brisk (fast walking pace)

I love to go a-wandering
Along the mountain track.
And as I go, I love to sing
My knapsack on my back.

(chorus)
 Valdereee, 
 Valderaaa,
 Valdereee,
 Valderaaa-ha-ha-ha-ha,
 (repeat last line of verse)

I love to wander by the stream
That dances in the sun.
So joyously it calls to me,
"Come, join my happy song."

(chorus)

High over head the blackbird wings;     (note: wording uncertain here)
It never rests at home.
But as it goes at always sings,
As o'er the world it roams.

(chorus)

Oh, may I go a-wandering
Until the day I die.
And may I always laugh and sing
Beneath the clear blue sky.

	No Boots at All

Way down in the land of the Antipodes
Where the lights of the camp-fires shine bright on the trees,
Bushmen will tell you as night shadows fall
There's a ghost roams the ranges with no boots at all.

Chorus:
    No boots, no boots at all,
    Roaming the ranges with no boots at all!

Way down in the city so sinful and bad,
There lived a young fellow, a promising lad,
He wanted to be a big bold mountaineer,
But his mother replied as she tossed down her beer:

Our hero, he murmured "Regardless press on",
When she woke in the morning, she found he was gone 
And off to the hills went her agonised shout:
"You've got no boots at all if you want to bail out!" 

He found a big mountain and climbed to the top
And stood on the edge of that horrible drop,
He thought of his mother all over again,
He could still hear her shouting that mournful refrain:

The god of the mountain looked down from his throne
And saw the young climber astanding alone.
He said to his angel "Go down with a swoosh
And give that young fellow a helluva push".

The Angel of Destiny swept through the pass,
And planted a foot fair and square on his pants.
As over and over and over fell he
The angels were singing this sweet melody:

St Peter, he stood at the heavenly gate,
Checking in drunks coming early and late.
The Orderly Angel just dropped in to say,
"There's a dirty big climber a-coming this way."

St Peter came down with a bucket of beer,
Saying, "Sorry, young fellow, you can't come in here,
With thousands of angels to answer your call,
You'd be no good in heaven with no boots at all".

The night it was stormy, the hour it was late,
When our hero arrived at the Satanic Gate,
The little black devils, they spat in his face
To show you, they said, it's a helluva place!

The devil said "Sorry, I can't let you in
Unless you've been leading a lifetime of sin.
But how could you wallow, and how could you fall?
You can't be a sinner with no boots at all!"

Now all you young fellows who some day may roam,
Be careful to stay with your mother at home.
With no one to love him or answer his call,
His ghost roams the ranges with no boots at all.


It's Sunday night and it's half past nine,
We're leavin' one more town behind.
The mirrors are showing the day's last glow
As we spin out into the jigsaw flow of life.
Up ahead where there should be the thickness of night,
Stars are pinned on a shimmering curtain of light.
The sky's full of rippling cliffs and chasms
That shine like a sign on the road to heaven.

I've been cut by the beauty of jagged mountains
And cut by the love that flows like a fountain from God.
So I carry these scars precious and rare
And tonight I feel like I'm made of air.

"Northern Lights" from "Dancing in the Dragon's Jaws"
Bruce Cockburn

TABLE OF CONTENTS of this chain:

23/ A bit of song (like camp songs)			<* THIS PANEL *>
24/ What is natural?
25/ A romantic notion of high-tech employment
26/ Other news groups of related interest, networking
27/ Films/cinema references
28/ References (written)
1/ DISCLAIMER
2/ Ethics
3/ Learning I
4/ learning II (lists, "Ten Essentials," Chouinard comments)
5/ Summary of past topics
6/ Non-wisdom: fire-arms topic circular discussion
7/ Learning (3)
8/ Fletcher's Law of Inverse Appreciation and advice
9/ Water Filter wisdom
10/ Words from Rachel Carson
11/ 
12/ Netiquette
13/ Questions on conditions and travel
14/ Dedication to Aldo Leopold
15/ Leopold's lot.
16/ Morbid backcountry
17/ Information about bears
18/ Poison ivy, frequently ask, under question
19/ Lyme disease, frequently ask, under question
20/ "Telling questions" backcountry Turing test (under construction)
21/ AMS
22/ Words from Foreman and Hayduke
Newsgroups: rec.backcountry