The Alamo May Have No Basement, But You Can Stand Across The Alley And Listen To The Quebe Sisters

Across the alley from the Alamo
Lived a pinto pony and a Navajo
Who sang a sort of Indian Hi-de-ho
To the people passin’ by

The pinto spent his time a-swishin’ flies
And the Navajo watched the lazy skies
And very rarely did they ever rest their eyes
On the people passin’ by

One day, they went a walkin’ along the railroad track
They were swishin’ not a-lookin’ Toot! Toot!, they never came back

Oh, across the alley from the Alamo
When the summer sun decides to settle low
A fly sings an Indian Hi-de-ho
To the people passing by

Across the alley from the Alamo
Lived a pinto pony and a Navajo
Who used to bake frijoles in cornmeal dough
For the people passing by

They thought that they would make some easy bucks
By washin’ their frijoles in Duz and Lux,
A pair of very conscientious clucks
To the people passin’ by

Then they took this cheap vacation, their shoes were polished bright
No, they never heard the whistle, Toot! Toot! they’re clear out of sight

Oh, across the alley from the Alamo
When the starlight beams its tender glow
The beams go to sleep and then there ain’t no dough
For the people passin’ by

Lovely close-harmony singing to go along with the bluegrass fiddling around. That’s an old Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys number as I recall.

Written by Joe Greene from Spokane, according to Texas Monthly in 1984. Joe said he’d never been to the Alamo, and he wrote the song while he was asleep with a broken arm. I’ll have to try that method. Yields results. It reminds me of a story I heard about a woman with a wooden leg named Irene. I regret that I can’t remember what her other leg’s name was.

The Quebe sisters website. 

The Quebe Sisters on Amazon