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You really are a hum-dinger!

Another Gordie introduction. The lyrics are from BR5-49's version, and the video is an earlier recording. But you get the idea.

Chorus 1:
Hum-dinger, you're a hum-dinger
You're as plain as yeller' puddin'
You're a hum-dinger
Verse:
You're cute when you're gay and glad
But you're even cuter when you're mad
There ain't no doubt about it
You're a hum-dinger
Fourteen miles outside of town
You told me to quit this hummin' around
But I ain't mad at you 'cause
You're a hum-dinger
Chorus 1

Verse:
You're hair is blonde, but the roots are black
There's bugs a crawlin' on your back
And the boys are chasin' you 'cause
You're a hum-dinger
You're teeth are good, but they look like corn
You're pappy left when you were born
I wish you'd be my girl
You're a hum-dinger
Chorus 1

Verse:
You're feet are wide and flat on the bottom
And speakin' of feet, I'd say you got 'em
Won't you be my gal
You're a hum-dinger
You're eyes are crossed and the color is pink
And I know when you're lookin' at me, I think
Oh, flower from the pasture
You're a hum-dinger
Chorus 2:
Hum-dinger, you're a hum-dinger
You're as sweet as cactus candy
You're a hum-dinger

Verse:
Well, you're hands are rough as an alligator
They could squash a three-pound Irish potater
But I love to sit and hold 'em
You're a hum-dinger
There's a bone stickin' out of your hip
There's a mustache on your dainty lip
Oh, darlin' little maiden
You're a hum-dinger
Chorus 1
Chorus 2
No chord
Mmmmmmmmm, Mmmmm!

Comments

Bill Cobabe said…
This song makes me think of you, sis. I miss you! I hope your body is OK and responds well to the treatments. I'm still praying for you!
December 7, 2010 at 1:41 PM
Bill Cobabe said…
This song also reminds me of Shakespeare...

Sonnet 130:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red, than her lips red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:
I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet by heaven, I think my love as rare,
As any she belied with false compare.
December 8, 2010 at 6:11 AM
Amie Cobb said…
Love you, bud. Gordon sang this song to me at a ward party...nice, huh? I guess I can't say he's never serenaded me.
December 9, 2010 at 7:20 PM
Bill Cobabe said…
Gordon is an old romantic... He's so smooth and sweet and awesome... Taught me everything I know about wooing the women! HA!!
December 10, 2010 at 5:58 AM
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