Stars are the Windows of Heaven

Stars are the windows of heaven,
Where Angels peep through.
Up in the sky, they keep an eye
On girls and boys like you.
They cry each time you are naughty,
Their teardrops are the rain.
But when you're good they are smiling
And they shine again.
Stars are the windows of heaven
Where Angels peep through.

My mother says, Angels have a book,
They make a mark each time they look.
A cross when you're good,
and an X when your bad,
Their the best friends that we ever had.

They cry each time you are naughty,
Their teardrops are the rain,
But when you're good they are smiling,
And they shine again.
Stars are the windows of heaven,
Where Angels peep through.
Click to hear vocal.

I listened to an Anne Murray version of this on You Tube and it has more words than the rendition that was on the old record we had.

Ridin' Down the Canyon

My Dad sang in a barbershop quartet when I was a little girl. This was probably before the birth of my sister Cathy in 1952. He sang with his brother Maurice and two other fellows. I cannot remember who those men were. I was under 6 years old at the time. Dad would sing this song to us and after the phrase "a picture that no artist e'er could paint" he would sing "Bom". If he had been singing with the other guys they would have harmonized this and gone on with the rest of the song. When he sang it alone his eyes would get big and he would sing "Bom" and make us laugh. Then he would finish the rest of the song. The words and music to this song were written by Gene Autry and Smiley Burnette. This particular version was arranged by Ozzie Westley in the Barber Shop quartet book that my Dad had. It is so old that it has fallen all apart but I have a photocopy of the old fragile page to refer to.

Ridin' down the Canyon to watch the sun go down,
A picture that no artist e'er could paint - Hmmm (Dad sang "Bom")
Whitefaced cattle lowin' on the mountain side
I hear a coyote whinin' for its mate
Cactus plants are bloomin'
Sagebrush everywhere
Granite spires are standin' all around
I tell you folks it's heaven
To be ridin' down the trail
When the desert sun goes down. When the desert sun goes down.
Click here for my vocal

Bob's vist March 2010

Bob and I were remembering the various songs that our Dad sang to us. Bob sings some and I sing with him on a couple. Bill played Dad actually singing Old Black Joe from the 1970's. This was a fun time. Click here to listen.

One kind of merry-go-round

This one is from 3rd grade

Mmm bloop-bloop, Mmm bloop-bloop, Mmm bloop, bloop, bloop
Hear the music make a bloopy, bloopy, jingle, jangle sound,
See the horses go a prancing and a dancing all around.
We will pay the man our money, then we'll ride and ride and ride
On the very merry, merry-go-round
Riding side by side
Bloop, Bloop! Click here for vocal

Old Black Joe

This is another song my dad used to sing to us. My youngest brother used to cry when he sang it. I guess it sounded sad to him. This would be considered a politically incorrect song to sing now days, but it is part of my history and I like it. ( I just discovered this was in my Dad's barbershop quartet book. That is probably why he sang it to us. Update 3-19-2010)

Gone are the days, when my heart was young and gay.
Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away.
Gone from the earth to a better land I know.
I hear their gentle voices calling, Old Black Joe.
I'm coming, I'm coming, though my head is bending low.
I hear their gentle voices calling Old Black Joe. Click here for vocal

Written by Stephen Foster circa 1860

Come Rosey, my posey

Come Rosey my posey,
your weary or dozey.
Come sit upon your daddy's knee.
Sweet songs I will sing you,
Sweet thoughts I will bring you.
Come cuddle up cozy to me. Click here for vocal

This was a very comforting song sung to me as a little girl. Then listening to my dad sing the same song to each of my 4 siblings while they were little and in need of cuddling was an additional comfort. I will include singing of this song as soon as I figure how to post home audio.