There was an old man, who had an old shoe, and his name was barnaby jones

He sat on his can, with his head in his hands, and he cursed his mother by name

Oh the winds were a howling

and the white waves a pounding

and the old men could feel in their bones

that the storm was a coming

and they should be running

for safe harbor far from the shore

Hey ho my mother's a ho

She left me here when i was two

Hey ho my mother's a ho

I grew up on old leather shoes

There was an old man, who had an old shoe, and his name was barnaby jones

He sat on his can, with his head in his hands, and he cursed his mother by name

When I was still four

She came back for more

And used to beat me black and blue

But dammit I love her

There'll never be another

Who'd compete with my mom for sure

Oh the winds were a howling

and the white waves a pounding

and the old men could feel in their bones

that the storm was a coming

and they should be running

for safe harbor far from the shore

There was an old man, who had an old shoes, and his name was barnaby jones

He sat on his can, with his head in his hands, and he cursed his mother by name