The Hills of Hey

Come listen all you jolly folk, a tale I will produce,
About a land that never was, straight out of Mother Goose,
Charles Lamb says it was China, but he'd never left the Strand,
The only land of fools there is is Never Never Land,
And I'll never go there, cause I don't care
To cross the Hills of Hey.

A little west of Dogpatch, across the Hills of Hey,
There lived a brace of foolish folk, however they got that way,
They do as well as others do, and that's the best they know,
In the house they keep their pigs and sheep when the stormy north winds blow,
And I'll never go there, cause I don't care
To cross the Hills of Hey.

They knew no thing of cooking, so they ate their vittles raw,
Tho the off side of a bucking calf is kind of hard to chaw,
But that's they way they did it, or so I heard folks say
In the land of Honky Konky O', across the Hills of Hey,
And I'll never go there, cause I don't care
To cross the Hills of Hey.

One day a farmer's house burned down, and that was very sad.
It burned his cots, his pans and pots, and everything he had,
His pig was burned to a frizzle and in the coals he lay,
In the land of Honky Konky O', across the Hills of Hey,
And I'll never go there, cause I don't care
To cross the Hills of Hey.

His little son named Somewhat, he poked among the ruins,
And his ma said, "You keep out of that or I'll spank your pantaloons."
"But Ma, this pig tastes very good!" they heard the laddie say,
In the land of Honky Konky O', across the Hills of Hey,
And I'll never go there, cause I don't care
To cross the Hills of Hey.

You'll see the fires burning above each little town,
Cause whenever they want to roast a pig, they burn the farmhouse down,
And they keep on building houses, cause they burn a house a day
In the land of Honky Konky O', across the Hills of Hey,
And I'll never go there, cause I don't care
To cross the Hills of Hey.

There's plenty of ways to roast a pig, but none come any higher,
There's better ways to run the world than by setting it all on fire,
We'll roast our pig in the oven, lads, and those that holler "Nay!"
Can go to Honky Konky O', across the Hills of Hey,
And I'll never go there, cause I don't care
To cross the Hills of Hey.