Well there was a boy from Arkansas
who wouldn't listen to his ma
When she told him that he
should go to school
He'd sneak away in the afternoon
and take a walk and pretty soon
You'd find him at the local
auction barn
He'd stand and listen carefully
until at last he began to see
How the auctioneer could talk
so rapidly
He said "Oh my, it's do or
die, I've got to learn that auction cry
Gonna make my mark and be
an auctioneer"
Well the time went by and he
did his best and all could see he did not jest
He practiced calling bids
both night and day
Til his pappy found him behind
the barn just working up an awful storm
As he tried to imitate the
auctioneer
His pop said "Son we just
can't stand to have a mediocre man
Selling things at auction
using our good name
Gonna send you off to auction
school and then you'll be nobody's fool
And you can take your place
among the best"
And from that boy that went
to school there grew a man who played it cool
He come back home a full fledged
auctioneer
And the people would come
from miles around
Just to hear him make that
rhythmic sound
That filled their hearts with
such a happy cheer
And his fame spread out from
shore to shore
He'd all that he could do
and more
He had to buy a plane to get
around
Now he's the best in all the
land, let's pause and give that man a hand
For he's the best of all the
auctioneers
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |