Stompin Tom Connors - Tribute To Wilf Carter Lyrics
Stompin Tom Connors - Tribute To Wilf Carter Lyrics
Hello friends, This is Stompin' Tom Connors|And I'd like to dedicate this song to that old Alberta cowboy himself|Wilf Carter||(yodeling)||In the year 1904, Upon a cold December morn|In Port Hillford, Nova Scotia Wilf Carter he was born|Went to work for the local farmers, at a very tender age|Til' the Bush Camps of New Brunswick hired Wilf for a better pay|And Wilf began to yodeleyaee in the back woods of Amdee||(yodeling)||From the Maritimes to Boston now, the wheat fields of the West|The Plains of ol' Alberta they just seemed to suit him best|Punching cows and breaking horse was the life he loved to lead|And you'd always see Wilf Carter at the Calgary Stampede|And Wilf would always yodeleyaee on the streets of Calgary||(yodeling)||When he sang, he'd play the guitar, tellin' stories that were true|For the songs that he wrote, were always about people that he knew|And he took his compositions down to Montreal by train|Where he made his first recording, and was on his way to fame|And Wilf began to yodeleyaee on the radio CBC||(yodeling)||Just the plain and simple cowboy, with that old familar grin|To the USA, Wilf Carter was now Montana Slim|From the hungary hobo jungles, to the top recording star|And the people came by thousands, when he strummed that old guitar|And Wilf would always yodeleyaee in a voice so young and free||(yodeling)||Now the message of my story won't be hard to understand|And I think I speak for every hardcore country music fan|Though the modern record players have replaced the gramaphone|I still love to here Wilf Carter singing play the cowboy songs|And Wilf can still yodeleyaee any time he wants for me||(yodeling)||
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Hello friends, This is Stompin' Tom Connors|And I'd like to dedicate this song to that old Alberta cowboy himself|Wilf Carter||(yodeling)||In the year 1904, Upon a cold December morn|In Port Hillford, Nova Scotia Wilf Carter he was born|Went to work for the local farmers, at a very tender age|Til' the Bush Camps of New Brunswick hired Wilf for a better pay|And Wilf began to yodeleyaee in the back woods of Amdee||(yodeling)||From the Maritimes to Boston now, the wheat fields of the West|The Plains of ol' Alberta they just seemed to suit him best|Punching cows and breaking horse was the life he loved to lead|And you'd always see Wilf Carter at the Calgary Stampede|And Wilf would always yodeleyaee on the streets of Calgary||(yodeling)||When he sang, he'd play the guitar, tellin' stories that were true|For the songs that he wrote, were always about people that he knew|And he took his compositions down to Montreal by train|Where he made his first recording, and was on his way to fame|And Wilf began to yodeleyaee on the radio CBC||(yodeling)||Just the plain and simple cowboy, with that old familar grin|To the USA, Wilf Carter was now Montana Slim|From the hungary hobo jungles, to the top recording star|And the people came by thousands, when he strummed that old guitar|And Wilf would always yodeleyaee in a voice so young and free||(yodeling)||Now the message of my story won't be hard to understand|And I think I speak for every hardcore country music fan|Though the modern record players have replaced the gramaphone|I still love to here Wilf Carter singing play the cowboy songs|And Wilf can still yodeleyaee any time he wants for me||(yodeling)||