by James W. Foley
Vile udder folks talkin’ an’ vunderin’ how,
An’ ban gettin’ ready purty soon but not now,
By yiminy, Lindbergh, he yumped up and vaded
Right out in the air an’, by yingo, he made it.
Vile all of dem fallers was vaitin’ on shore,
By yiminy, Lindbergh, he vaited no more.
He lift up his nose an’ he lift up a ving,
An’ he yump in the air an’ he made it, by ying.
He come from the Vest an’ come purty darn kvick,
An’ he yump in the cockpit an’ pull on a stick.
An’ befoe all dem fallers could say any word,
He vas up in the air an’ vent offf like a bird.
He said dis here vaitin’ vas purty darn dull,
So, he yump in his ship an’ he vave an’ say: “Skol!”
An’ he fly to the North an’ the East an’ don’t drop,
An’ he made it to Paris by ying, in one hop!
Ay lak dis man Lindbergh, a dandy fine kid,
Ay lak him, by yingo, Ay lak vat he did.
Vile dem fallers talkin’ yust vated an’ vated,
Dis Lindbergh, he yump up, by yingo, an’ made it.
Okay, that was random, I know. I found it in a box of letters my great-great grandmother used to keep. I thought it was charming, and totally in the vane of Garrison Keillor, et al. Probably from someone in North Dakota, as the only info I can find on this guy is that he wrote the North Dakotan state song.