The Holy Modal Rounders
The Cuckoo
Oh, the Cuckoo, she's a good bird
And she warbles as she flies
But she never hollers Cuckoo
Till the fourth day of July
Jack of Diamonds, Jack of Diamond
I know you from old
You robbed my poor pockets
Of silver and gold
I gambled in England
And I gambled in Maine
I'll bet you ten dollars
That I'll beat you the next game
Gonna get me, get me shotgun
Just as long as I'm tall
Gonna fill my big shotgun
With a ten-inch iron ball
Gonna build me log cabin
On a mountain far away
Gonna live there with my true love
Till we both do pass away
Sometimes I wonder
What makes women love men
Then I look back and I wonder
What makes men love them