Rockin Robin
(Leon Rene) recorded by Bobby Day
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweet
tweet tweet tweet)
He
rocks in the tree-top all the day long
Hoppin'
and a-boppin' and a-singin' his song
All
the little birds on Jay Bird Street
Love
to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet
Rockin'
robin (tweet tweet tweet)
Rock,
rock, rockin' robin (Tweet, tweedle-lee-dee)
Blow,
rockin' robin
'Cause
we're really gonna rock tonight
(Tweet,
tweedle-lee-dee)
Every
little swallow, every chickadee
Every
little bird in the tall oak tree
The
wise old owl, the big black crow
Flap-a
their wings singin' "go bird go"
Rockin'
robin (tweet tweet tweet)
Rock,
rock, rockin' robin (Tweet, tweedle-lee-dee)
Blow,
rockin' robin
'Cause
we're really gonna rock tonight
Blow!
(Tweet,
tweedle-lee-dee)
A
pretty little raven at the bird bandstand
Taught
him how to do the bop and it was grand
They
started goin' steady and bless my soul
He
out-bopped the buzzard and the oriole
He
rocks in the tree-top all the day long
Hoppin'
and a-boppin' and a-singin' his song
All
the little birds on Jay Bird Street
Love
to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet
Rockin'
robin (tweet tweet tweet)
Rock,
rock, rockin' robin (Tweet, tweedle-lee-dee)
Blow,
rockin' robin
'Cause
we're really gonna rock tonight
(Tweet,
tweedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweedle-lee-deedle-lee-dee)
(Tweet
tweet) (wolf whistle)
Another mouldy goldy, Rockin Robin was the height of fun when I was a little kid. When it would come on the radio, my Mum would stop whatever she was doing (which, in my memory, was pretty much always cooking something up in the kitchen) and she would grab us kids, one after the other, and start jiving, strolling, throwing us between her legs then straight up in the air, and then the over-the-hip-to-the-other-hip move. This is a song that would make her sentimental, talking about the sock hops she went to as a kid -- everyone needing to remove their shoes when they got to the highly varnished gym floor at the high school -- and how much she always loved to dance. The boys would be on one side of the gym and the girls on the other, and the girls would wait shyly for some guy to work up the courage to cross the no-man's-land in the middle. My mother could never say no to a boy who would ask her -- even if he was the wrong boy -- because she could never force a boy to make that shameful, solitary walk back across the gym (and no girl would dance with a boy who asked her only because some other girl said no; a rejection could only lead to the walk of shame). There was one boy who often took advantage of my mother's kindness -- a shrimp of a guy who, conveniently, was eye-level to my Mum's chest -- and she would hope that someone else would ask her, even as she saw him starting to make that long walk towards her. But boy, my mother loved to dance.
Another song (too related to this experience to merit its own Tunesday entry) that would get Mum dancing with us was Chantilly Lace. Ken could always get her laughing by picking up the phone (avocado green, wall-mounted, loooong curly cord, rotary dial) and saying in his deepest voice (which was certainly the deepest of us kids', but still pip-squeaky, I'm sure):
Hello baaaaaaby,
Yeah, this is the Big Bopper speakin
Hahahahahaha
Oh you sweet thing
Do I what?
Will I what?
Oh baby you knoooooow what I like
That song on the radio would also make Mum drop her stirring spoon, grab the nearest kid, and start flinging us around. Naturally, we thought these were cool songs and we expected everyone else to think they were cool as well. We were at a wedding once in the mid-70s (I don't remember if it was my Aunt Carole's or my Uncle Billy's wedding) and they had a live band at the dance and Kyler and I went up to them and asked if we could make a request. They thought we were cute, said sure, and when we asked for Rockin Robin, they looked at us like we were nutty. No, they didn't know that song, and No, they couldn't do any old jitterbug tunes. That was devastating to us -- jiving/jitterbugging was the only dance our mother had taught us -- and, of course, it was embarrassing to be treated like idjits. But thinking about it now -- how could that band not have known Rockin Robin? It was only 20 years old at the time, the Jackson Five had covered it, it must have been the sort of thing that got requested at weddings, and it sounds like a pretty easy song to play. Harrumph. It would have been nice to see our Mum out there jiving on the dance floor, us hoppin' and a-boppin' right beside her.
