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Hey well all right sir, open the gate
Let’em out and walk’em boys
Here we come with lot number twenty-nine
What are you gonna give for the little fella
Well there was a boy from arkansas who wouldn’t listen to his ma
When she told him that he should go to school
He’d sneak away in the afternoon and take a walk and pretty soon
You’d find him at the local auction barn
He’d stand and listen carefully until at last he began to see
How the auctioneer could talk so rapidly
He said oh my, it’s do or die, I’ve got to learn that auction cry
Gonna make my mark and be an auctioneer
Well the time went by and he did his best and all could see he did not jest
He practiced calling bids both night and day
Til his pappy found him behind the barn just working up an awful storm
As he tried to imitate the auctioneer
His pop said son we just can’t stand to have a mediocre man
Selling things at auction using our good name
Gonna send you off to auction school and then you’ll be nobody’s fool
And you can take your place among the best
And from that boy that went to school there grew a man who played it cool
He come back home a full fledged auctioneer
And the people would come from miles around
Just to hear him make that rhythmic sound
That filled their hearts with such a happy cheer
And his fame spread out from shore to shore
He’d all that he could do and more
He had to buy a plane to get around
Now he’s the best in all the land, let’s pause and give that man a hand
For he’s the best of all the auctioneers
Read more lyrics about / on: school, fame, happy, home, night, numb, work, dying
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Lyrics: Gordon Lightfoot
