30,000 Pounds of Bananas (Live)

Lyrics

[Intro] Okay, now there's only one other last requirement, and that is we'd like to get the uh, the LA Memorial Choir in on this one. Are you guys—I guess you're game, you've been game all night. Okay, now.  It's a, it's a low part, but it builds up. Last, last statement it that this song starts off with an absolutely brilliant Chet Atkins guitar lick that it took me about four hours to steal, and I, we should appreciate it when it comes by.  [Verse 1] It was just after dark when the truck started down The hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania [Refrain] Carrying thirty thousand pounds of bananas Carrying thirty thousand pounds Hit it big John Said, of bananas [Verse 2] He was a young driver, just out on his second job And he was carrying thе next day's pasty fruits For everyonе in that coal-scarred city Where children play without despair In backyard slag piles and folks manage to eat each day [Refrain] Just about thirty thousand pounds of bananas Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds Scream it again, John Of bananas [Verse 3] He passed a sign that he should have seen Saying "Shift to low gear or fifty dollar fine my friend" (My friend) He was thinking perhaps about the warm-breath woman Who was waiting at the journey's end He started down the two-mile drop The curving road that wound from the top of the hill He was pushing on through the shortening miles That ran down to the depot Just a few more miles to go Then he'd go home and have her ease that long, cramped day away [Refrain] And the smell of thirty thousand pounds Let's hear you Of bananas Yes, the smell of thirty thousand pounds Really loud now Of bananas This song builds up in intensity and excitement [Verse 4] He was picking up speed as the city spread Its twinkling lights below him But he paid no heed as the shivering thoughts Of the night's delights went through him His foot nudged the brakes to slow him down But the pedal floored easy without a sound He said, "Christ!" (Christ!) It was funny how he had named the only man Who could save him now He was trapped inside a dead-end hellslide Riding on his fear-hunched back Was every one of those yellow green [Refrain] I'm telling you thirty thousand pounds Scream it now Of bananas Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds Even louder Of bananas [Verse 5] He barely made the sweeping curve That led into the steepest grade And he missed the thankful passing bus At ninety miles an hour And he said, "God, make it a dream" As he rode his last tread down He said, "God, make it a dream" As he rode his last tread down And he sideswiped nineteen neat-parked cars Clipped off thirteen telephone poles Hit two houses, bruised eight trees And Blue Crossed seven people It was then he lost his head Not to mention an arm or two before he stopped Stopped And he smeared for four hundred yards Along the hill that leads into Scranton, Pennsylvania [Refrain] All those thirty thousand pounds You guessed it Of bananas Thank God you're here [Spoken Interlude] Now, some of you may think that it would be easy to write a song like this. But it isn't. See, most great works of art have a theme that holds them together. This song doesn't. As a matter of fact, I had a great deal of trouble ending it. As a matter of fact, the first ending was like this.  [Verse 6] Yes, we have no bananas We have no bananas today And if that wasn't enough Yes, we have no bananas Bananas in Scranton, P.A.  [Spoken Interlude] Now I was very proud of that ending. And with much anticipation I sang it, sang it for the guys in the group and my brothers. And their reaction was best summed up by my brother Tom, who said: "Harry, it sucks." Well, I was devastated. But I went back to my lonely writer's garret and decided I would try again and come up with a new ending. Since it was a country and western song, maybe I could write a country, country ending. Something about motherhood this time 'cause the song already had a truck. Something with weeping steel guitars, wailing fiddles, and an incredible banjo part. And something with harmony sung by, you guessed it, the LA Memorial Choir (Ooh). You'll see your part when it comes by.  [Verse 7] A woman walks into her room Where her child lies sleeping (Sleeping) And when she sees his eyes are closed She sits there silently weeping (Weeping) I see gay liberation has hit LA And though she lives in Scranton, Pennsylvania ('Vania) Three thousand munchkins and a troll [Refrain] She never ever eats Bananas Not one of thirty thousand pounds Harmony now Of bananas Sounds like the Mormon Tubercular Choir out there [Spoken Interlude] Well, the sad truth is, no matter how loudly and how loverly, if that's a word (How luh-buh-luh-buh-luh), you say "Of bananas," it doesn't alter in the least the fact that when I sang that ending for my brothers and the guys in the group, their reaction was best summed up by my brother Steve, who said: "No, no, Harry, you gotta be kidding me." "What?" "You really expect that to end this song? I mean, it's nice, Harry. I mean, the words are potentially harmless. The music is a lot, is, is pleasant. But uh, I think Tom's definitely right. It sucks." I was broken-hearted. And once more I went back to my, my writer's room, and decided finally that honesty was the best policy. And I would end the song the way I found out about it in the first place. And that was coming on a Greyhound bus through Scranton, Pennsylvania, 1965. Like this: [Verse 8] You see the man that told me about it on the bus As it went up the hill out of Scranton, Pennsylvania You know he shrugged his head He shrugged his shoulders, and said And this is exactly what he said (Shrugged his head and shoulders) He said, "Boy, boy, it sure must've been something Just imagine thirty thousand pounds of bananas" [Refrain] Yes, there were thirty thousand pounds of mashed bananas Of bananas, of bananas Thirty thousand pounds of bananas Not no driver now, all bananas, just bananas