Fallout 3

A few songs from fallout 3’s radio.. really really old stuff.. hard to find music like this, such a pity!

Way Back Home

The roads are the dustiest
The winds are the gustiest
The gates are the rustiest
The pies are the crustiest
The songs the lustiest
The friends the trustiest, way back home (back home)

The trees are the sapiest
The days are the nappiest
The dogs are the yappiest
The kids are the scrappiest
The jokes the snappiest
The folks the happiest, way back home

Don’t know why I left the home still
I really must confess..
I’m a weary exile, singing my song of loneliness

The grass is the springiest
The bees are the stingiest
The birds are the wingiest
The bells are the ringiest
The hearts the singiest
The arms the clingiest, way back home

What about the sun? The sun’s the blaziest
And the fields? The fields the daziest
And the cows? The cows the graziest
And the help? The help’s the laziest

The boys? Are the wittiest
The girls? Are the prettiest, way back home

The pigs are the snootiest
The owls the hootiest
The plants the frutiest
The stars the shootiest
The grins the funniest
The smiles the sunniest, way back home

Don’t know why I left the home still
I really must confess..
I’m a weary exile, singing my song of loneliness

The food is the spreadiest
The wine is the headiest
The pals are the readiest
The gals the steadiest
The love the liveliest
The life the loveliest, way back, way back, way back home
No place like home sweet home

Another

Civilization (Bongo, Bongo, Bongo)

The Andrews Sisters with Danny Kaye
- written by Bob Hilliard and Carl Sigman
- as recorded September 27, 1947 in Los Angeles by The Andrews Sisters
with Danny Kaye and Vic Schoen & His Orchestra.

Each morning, a missionary advertises neon sign
He tells the native population that civilization is fine
And three educated savages holler from a bamboo tree
That civilization is a thing for me to see

So bongo, bongo, bongo, I don’t wanna leave the Congo, oh no no no no no
Bingo, bangle, bungle, I’m so happy in the jungle, I refuse to go
Don’t want no bright lights, false teeth, doorbells, landlords, I make it clear
That no matter how they coax him, I’ll stay right here

I looked through a magazine the missionary’s wife concealed (Magazine? What happens?)
I see how people who are civilized bung you with automobile (You know you can get hurt that way Daniel?)
At the movies they have got to pay many coconuts to see (What do they see, Darling?)
Uncivilized pictures that the newsreel takes of me

So bongo, bongo, bongo, he don’t wanna leave the Congo, oh no no no no no
Bingo, bangle, bungle, he’s so happy in the jungle, he refuse to go
Don’t want no penthouse, bathtub, streetcars, taxis, noise in my ear
So, no matter how they coax him, I’ll stay right here

They hurry like savages to get aboard an iron train
And though it’s smokey and it’s crowded, they’re too civilized to complain
When they’ve got two weeks vacation, they hurry to vacation ground (What do they do, Darling?)
They swim and they fish, but that’s what I do all year round

So bongo, bongo, bongo, I don’t wanna leave the Congo, oh no no no no no
Bingo, bangle, bungle, I’m so happy in the jungle, I refuse to go
Don’t want no jailhouse, shotgun, fish-hooks, golf clubs, I got my spears
So, no matter how they coax him, I’ll stay right here

They have things like the atom bomb, so I think I’ll stay where I “ahm”
Civilization, I’ll stay right here!

Butcher Pete

Hey everybody, did the news get around
About a guy named Butcher Pete
Oh, Pete just flew into this town
And he’s choppin’ up all the women’s meat

[Chorus]
He’s hackin’ and wackin’ and smackin’
He’s hackin’ and wackin’ and smackin’
He’s hackin’ and wackin’ and smackin’
He just hacks, wacks, choppin’ that meat

Butcher Pete’s got a long sharp knife
He starts choppin’ and don’t know when to stop
All you fellows gotta watch your wifes
‘Cause Pete don’t care who’s meat he chops

Ever since Peter flew into town
He’s been havin’ a ball
Just cuttin’ and choppin’ for miles around
Single women, married women, old maids and all

Wakes up in the morning, half past five
Chops from sunrise to sunset
I don’t see how he stays alive
Meat’s gonna be the death of ole Pete, yeah

The police put Pete in jail
Yes, he finally met his faith
But when they came to pay his bail
They found him choppin’ up his cell mate

That Butcher Pete is a crazy man
Tries to chop down the wind and the rain
Just hacks on anything he can get
Say, turn this record over, you ain’t heard nothing yet