| Lyrics: | Louis Gottlieb
Rock-a-bout, rock-a-bout, rock-a-bout.
Chorus:
Come on and
rock-about my Saro Jane. (Repeat)
Oh, there's nothing to do but to sit down and sing and
rock-about my Saro Jane.
I've got a wife and five little children. Believe I'll take a trip
on the big Macmillan. Oh, Saro Jane.
A guy like me don't have no home. I make my livin' on my
shoulder bone. Oh, Sara Jane. Oh, Saro Jane. Oh, Saro Jane.
(Chorus)
Woke up this
mornin' feeling mighty mean, thinkin' 'bout my good gal in New Orleans. Oh, Saro Jane.
Fireman,
keep those boilers hot. I want to reach town by six o'clock. Oh, Saro Jane. Oh, Saro Jane. Oh, Saro
Jane.
(Chorus)
Back's getting' tired and shoulder's gettin' sore. Each sack is
bigger than the one before. Oh, Saro Jane.
A rock in my stomach and a watchin' my head. Gettin'
superstitious 'bout my pork and bread. Oh, Saro Jane. Oh, Saro Jane.
(Chorus) |
